I’d like to speak to the manager!!!

No really.  

Can I speak with the manager!!!

Today is Monday.  Was Monday.  

For the past three nights I’ve been kept awake by my knee.   Pain radiating from my knee to my shin, my calf and my ankle.  

Friday night was horrible. 

So horrible that I took 2 of the pain pills I have with no luck.  It didn’t touch it.  

I had also had two bourbons one before, one after the pain pills.  I was miserable.  

Around 4:00 a.m. I actually called my doctor.  I didn’t know what to expect on a Saturday morning at 4:00, but I was desperate.  I left a message.  They called back around 5:30.  I remember talking to them but I couldn’t tell you anything I said.  I’d been asleep by the time they called, and with the medicine and the bourbon I was out of it.  

I felt off all day on Saturday.  

Saturday night around 3:00 a.m. the pain was back.  

I didn’t take anything stronger than Advil and Tylenol on Saturday night.   

For the 2^nd night in a row, my knee kept me awake not to mention Adam who couldn’t sleep because I kept tossing and turning.  

Last night was the worst of the three.  

I spent about 60 minutes in bed before I moved to the couch.  

I couldn’t get comfortable. 

The pain was intense. 

I finally fell asleep on the couch and woke up around 5:30. I moved to the bed.  Fell asleep and the next thing I knew the alarm was going off at 11:30.  

When I got in the car today, I called my doctor.  

Someone answered and I let them know that I had new pain.  Different than before.   It was emanating from my knee but was focused in my shin, calf and ankle.  

It also only starts once I get into bed, and had dissipates by the time I get up.  

I needed something to allow me to sleep as I had not slept in three days.  

I was told someone would get back to me.  

It was 12:05.  

At 4:00 no one had called back.  

I called again.  

Got someone who was just answering the phone.  

She found the notes and told me that they’d decided it was a primary physician issue.  

I asked how my knee was getting referred back to my PCP.  I also asked why no one had called to let me know this.  And I asked why I my PCP had not been notified since it was the same practice.  

She took my information and told me someone would call back.  I gave her my work number as I don’t get service on my cell at work.   

At 5:00 my cell phone rings and it’s the doctor’s office.  

I guess they ignored my request to call my cell.

I head outside so the call won’t drop.  

I am told that my doctor is on vacation, but my request has been evaluated by another doctor.  

And this is where things got weird.  

I am told that there is no way the pain can be caused by my knee.  

I am told that if it were a real issue that it wouldn’t “mysteriously” be gone in the morning.  

I am told that perhaps it’s a nerve issue.  

I am told that I can only have 6 pills, that’s all I am getting.  

And I’m told this,  three more times before the call ends. 

I’m told that I am only getting Oxycodine at least three other times.  

I’m told that I really should have contacted my primary care physician.  

He confirms my pharmacy and tells me again that I am only getting 6 pills.  

He then tells me that there is no way the pain occurs when I lie down and goes away when I get up, which is strange because it’s been that way for almost a year now.   

There is more weirdness. 

Finally, the call ends. 

And I feel like a drug addict.  

Without using the words I’ve been made to feel like I’m shopping for drugs.  

Let’s break this down for you.

First, if this ploy has been to shop for drugs it’s the longest con in the history of cons.  

I’ve been seeing my knee doctor for more than 6 years.  I never asked for anything, until last December when things got really bad.  Even then.  Only at night.  For sleep. 

Every time I see him, including last Thursday I ask if it’s safe to take the medicine I do have.  I’m terrified of being addicted.  

And truly, addicts can be tricky.  I mean, I managed to fuck up my knee, get bone on bone arthritis, a torn meniscus, with a piece of the meniscus floating around in there, with bone-on-bone bruising, and it’s fucking fractured all so 6 years later I can con them for pain meds. 

It’s a seriously long fucking con.  

Here’s the thing Adam pointed out to me.  

I am more tolerant of pain than anyone I know.  

I lay in bed for two days with a stomach ache without going to the hospital.  When I got to the hospital, I was in the hallway in a pair of boxer shorts, that I had pooped, still with no pain medicine, waiting to be treated. (2003 at St. Vincent’s Hospital). 

I got nothing for my pain until I was put under for surgery.

My appendix had burst. 

I have been given Oxycodine, many, many times.  For my oral surgery.  For surgery on my butt.  For my gall bladder.   I’ve taken one of those pills in the entire time.  Because the nurse told me after my glad bladder not to be a hero and just do it.  I took one.  

In fact, we just got rid of four bottles of the pills in February.  With only one missing.  

When I broke my foot, I walked home two miles on it, without a tear.    

I tolerate pain.  

Most of you’d say you are at a 10 when I’m at a 4.  

Adam assured me that I’d have never reached out Friday or today if I weren’t suffering.  

I even asked today, is there something else that I can do?  Ice?  Heat?  Wrap it.  

At no time, did I ever believe the guy thought I actually had any pain.  

And the icing on the cake. 

He confirmed my pharmacy information.

I texted Adam and asked if he could please, please, please sneak out of work to pick it up.  

When he got there.

No prescription.

I should have known, CVS texts me when it is phoned in and again when it’s ready.  

I took my time coming home tonight because turning off the light to go to bed scares me.  

I can’t suffer through another night of this.  

I have slept about 4 hours each of the last three nights.  

I don’t want to not sleep tonight because it’s my day off tomorrow and I want to enjoy it.  

I’ve also caught myself being grumpy at work, because I’m fucking tired.  

And I don’t want to call again tomorrow and be treated like a criminal.  

I do have an appointment with my knee doctor on Thursday, who will be back from vacation.

But once again, I don’t want to go and be told I’m crazy.

After my phone call today, I googled, can shin and ankle pain be caused by arthritis in the knee? 

Can knee arthritis cause shin and calf pain?

“Yes, calf pain and knee pain are usually linked to some degree. If you have arthritis, you may experience pain the radiates from the knee to the calf. Arthritic joint discomfort is primarily caused by inflammation.”

I didn’t go to medical school, but seriously I’m not stupid.  

And I really think it’s because the pain in my knee has gotten much worse in the last month and I can feel my gait has changed.  I= hobble and tense the left leg, which is probably putting stress on the calf muscle, the shin and the ankle.  

But you know, it has nothing to do with the knee.  

I’d like to speak to the manager!!!

Some people are only happy when they are miserable.

We had a reservation tonight for a table of four.

I didn’t notice the name until the first person arrived.

He let us know that she is the owner of a business in town and eats here all the time.

She indeed owns a business in town.

She in fact does not eat here all the time.

She dines with us twice a year.

And she’s horrible every time she comes in.

Last time she yelled at me because I didn’t give her the table she wanted.

Tonight she especially kind to the server.

How you ask?

By criticizing the restaurant for the whole meal.

The server only told me a couple of stories.

My favorite was that she was angry we don’t have baked potatoes. I mean it’s really not that hard to bake a potato. Or make rice pilaf.

She’s oblivious when the server explains our concept.

She continues that people who eat steak like baked potatoes.

I tell the server to ask if we buy shoes in her retail store.

People like to buy shoes.

Or perhaps a cordless drill.

I mean she owns a retail store.

She should cater to everyone.

Meanwhile.

She’s miserable.

I’d like to speak to the manager!!!

Do not.

I repeat do not.

Wait.

Back story.

Any restaurant deals with lots of vendors.

Some we do business with.

A lot of them are hustling for business.

I don’t envy them. I’d be a horrible sakes person.

Someone would tell me know and I’d say okay great.

A lot of the people we do business with I’ve known for years. I consider them friends.

So.

I haven’t ever commented.

But here’s two requests.

Do not show up at the host stand at 5:15 on Friday wanting to taste your beers.

Fun fact. We are open.

The chef/owner is cooking.

And I appreciate you going to your car to get an info sheet.

I filed it in the trash can at the host stand.

And for your sake, never, ever, come in to my restaurant and taste your rum with the 22 year old bartender who has no purchasing authority and no decision making authority.

You are now facilitating an employee drinking on the job.

Even if it’s just a few sips.

And we are certainly never buying your product now.

Also I don’t think it’s cool that you poured your rum into a container that you brought in that was unlabeled, unsealed, and left it with the bartender.

Please.

Do not do these things.

I’d like to speak to the manager!!!

This is a Public Service Announcement.

Do not.

I repeat do not.

Go into a business at 6:57, that closes at 7:00 and order drinks for the three of you and take an hour and fifteen minutes to drink them.

And for the love of god do not tip 12% when you do do this.

And please don’t apologize for drinking slowly.

No one cares.

I’d like to speak to the manager!!!

This isn’t really a restaurant post.

However.

A year ago, an employees mom passed away.

Someone at work suggested we take up a collection to send flowers.

I interceded and shared a story with my staff.

When my dad passed away. We had tons of plants and flowers.

The only person I remeber doing so is my friend Michelle because I still have the plant.

It was 20 years ago.

I just realized that May 17th it had been 20 years.

When my mom passed we asked for no flowers and suggested donations to hospice.

However, someone showed up at our reception not empty handed.

My friend Tonya Hougland Merritt came with a bottle of Basil Hayden.

And it was appreciated.

It was needed.

And I remember the kindness to this day.

And so when my employees mom passed away I suggested we do something other than flowers.

Something that he’d remember.

So an employee suggested Red Sox tickets.

So instead of sending a floral arrangement.

We arranged for home plate tickets to a Red Sox game.

He was surprised by the gift.

And loved it.

And he’ll remember the game.

Which honored his mom.

I’d like to speak to the manager!!!

Witnessed a first tonight.

Table 12.

Server approaches the table and begins to take their order.

She gets their app order.

Their phone rings.

While the server is speaking to them.

Without even an excuse me, they answer and spend the next ten or so minutes facetiming with someone.

With the volume at full.

No apology.

No anything.

Just hucking it up on the phone so all of us can hear.

I don’t understand people.

I’d like to speak to the manager!!!

Was standing in the wait station tonight and witnessed an exchange between a server and her table.

The table was French Canadian.

Three top.

The daughter orders a drink.

She is carded.

She is not 21.

The mother is nice but says the following.

For the life of me I don’t understand why you cannot drink until your 21 but when you are 18 you can walk into a store and buy a gun.

The server says she understands but explains the liability of liquor laws.

Meanwhile I’m thinking that in the states it’s illegal even to give a 17 year old an adult beverage and yet half the south sends out photos of their six year holding their first gun.

The mother was not wrong.

I’d like to speak to the manager!!!

I was very tired, because it was very late when I wrote last night’s post. I’m not sure what I was trying to say.

It’s Sunday night.

Tomorrow night is my first Monday shift of the summer.

I’ve found that if I stop counting hours and stop counting days and stop counting weeks it doesn’t seem such a daunting task to work 18 six hour weeks.

That being said, it’s going to be a long summer.

Tonight was a great shift.

I was able to take a breath. Breathe deep. And remember why I do what I do, and why sometimes I think I’m good at it.

This morning on the way to work, Adam reminded me that no one comes to work to do a bad job. They are just kids. Doing the best they can.

Tonight a bartender pointed out to me that I’d been using the term strive for perfection, when we really want to strive for professionalism. When you strive for perfection you are setting yourself up for failure.

I also know, from years of therapy, and emulating the opposite of what I grew up with, that a lot of what you go through during the day, the week, the month, the year is a choice.

YOU get to choose how you respond. You get to choose how you interpret the situation. You get to decided your mood. You get to decide.

Today, when I got up. After 6.5 hours of sleep.

I chose to not be tired.

I chose to be in a good mood.

I chose to be happy.

I chose to stop being frustrated with my team.

I chose to have fun.

And I heard Adam’s voice in my head as I started the dinner shift.

Pre-shift was laid back.

I still got the messages across that I needed to get across.

And at 4:30 we were off to the races.

We started opening at 4:30 this week. I wasn’t sure it was a good idea, but the last three days we’ve sat about 30 people each day by 5:00. Today we sat 10 walk-ins before 4:45.

I spent my night coaching and counseling. To quote my friend Laura.

Instead of being frustrated. I challenged myself to fix the frustrations.

So I met with the host team and gave them notes, direction, answered questions, updated them on new policies.

And the night went well.

I did the same with the food runners.

I had fun.

I also managed the floor for the first time in a bit, and worried less about the door.

It allowed me to see service, and chat with guests.

It was truly a different shift.

I also left early.

When I left at 8:00 to go to the new restaurant to close up, I did not go back to work.

By 8:40 I was on my way to Portland.

On the drive home, I was able to speak with my good friend Laura. We used to chat 4 times a week. But she works days nows, and I work nights. Our days don’t mesh. It’s been almost a month since we’ve spoken.

We talked for 90 minutes tonight.

Finally someone to vent to.

She offered a lot of advice. And support. And love.

She reminded me that opening a new restaurant is like giving birth. It hurts like hell, but eventually there is a payoff.

She reminded me that sometimes I’m too hard on myself.

She also reminded me that I can do this. I have the talent. And just to keep breathing. Keep at it. Cross things off your list and just keep moving forward.

She reminded me that I like teaching. I like training. And to turn to that passion when things get frustrating, and challenging.

Most of all she reminded me that I am human. The cracks are going to show sometime. You are going to disappoint people sometime. You are going to get frustrated. You are going to lose your cool. You are going to make a wrong decision. You are going to make mistakes. You are going to drop the balls you have in the air.

All of those things are okey.

Keep your chin up. Take care of yourself. Breathe.

You’ll get through it.

You have before.

You will again.

I’d like to speak to the manager!!!

We had our second show up with two reservations and want to sit together table. At the bar.

I told I could put them together but they had to be up by 6:30. They got mad. Couldn’t understand what I was saying.

Fun fact.

It’s far better for a restaurant to do 5 two tops than one 10 top. The two tops are in and out in 90 minutes. They get three courses. They get cocktails. They get wine.

The 10 top is three hours. Once they sit down.

This is why I try to only take at most two 3 tops at the bar. The rest are kept to 2’s.

Fun fact.

I’m glad you are a third generation cattle farms.

From Iowa.

And thank you for pretending to ignore me when I asked what part of Iowa. I learned all about Iowa geography watching tornado warnings during the 4 months I lived there.

She’s about 20 miles from Grinnell.

Here’s the deal.

Do t approach the chef at 9:30 on a Saturday night to sell him steaks.

He’s not interested.

I’m not interested.

We both just want to go home.

Also thank you for staying 3.25 hours. We appreciated that as well.

I managed to annoy more people tonight.

The cracks in my facade are showing.

I’m mostly just frustrated.

And sometimes I can’t keep it hidden behind the mask. It’s come out the last two nights.

Last night someone accused me of being rude.

Today she sent Chef detailing my rude behavior.

I stand by my question that she considered rude, why are you doing that?

Meanwhile.

I try to keep it together.

For my manager friends.

How do you respond when you have one instruction for the shift and everyone pretends you didn’t say anything?

PS. It’s a full moon tonight.

I’d like to speak to the manager!!!

Worth repeating from a year ago.

Once.

Upon.

A

Time.

There was a General Manager of a restaurant that ruled a small castle in a coastal new England town.

He ruled with a fair but steady hand.

The staff of the castle liked working there and were rewarded nicely.

The guests who frequented the castle enjoyed it immensely.

The the king of the small castle, David was happy with the outcome.

And was loved by all.

Things in the castle were good.

Little did we know evil was lurking in the shadows.

One of the BIG rulers of the country was spying on the castle and staff.

And he did something he shouldn’t have.

A staff member complained.

And things started to crumble.

Slowly at first but two months later the castle was closed.

The king was replaced.

The general manager was replaced.

The staff was replaced.

Everyone was sad.

The guests.

The staff.

The general manager.

The king.

We all moved on as one is wont to do in these cases.

Fast forward 4.5 years.

The king is happy.

The staff is happy.

The guests are happy

All at other castles.

And the general manager is in charge of a castle not far from the original one.

He is happy again.

But.

Minions from the country of the original castle stop by.

And they compliment him on his efforts.

The staff is great.

The service is great.

The candies are lit.

The lamps are charged.

The guests are treated well.

I comment that it’s easy when you treat them with respect and kindness. When they make money. When the food is consistently good.

They are jealous.

They get pushback in their kingdom.

The GM laughs and says it was never a problem when it was his castle.

And he laughs. And laughs.

Because the current leaders can’t manage their teams.

Perhaps he should offer to consult.

Meanwhile.

In the GM’s current castle life is good.

And the evil owners from before stop by and tell him how wonderful his castle is.

And the story will continue.

The

End.