I’d like to speak to the manager!!!

Server edition!!!

PS. I clearly remember the woman who was upset because her drink wasn’t pink enough. It was not a cosmo!

During my shift waiting tables on Tuesday night I came to the realization that I hated my job and I was completely over it. This is not something you want to realize when you have only been at the job five weeks. The past three or four shifts have sucked for various reasons, and I haven’t made nearly as much money as I should have and this only makes it worse. So on the way home on the subway Tuesday night I had a little chat with myself. I basically said to myself that I needed to stop taking the job so seriously, I needed to stop getting upset by things when they didn’t go my way, and I needed to realize that the job for better or worse was excellent money and that I needed it.

I had the same conversation with my roommate who agreed with me that it was not good to hate a job you’ve only had five weeks. He also reminded me that it was a means to an end and that if I hated it, that would keep me motivated to look for a real job. I reminded myself of all of this on my way to work tonight. And without a doubt I had the best shift tonight that I have had since I started working there. I didn’t make the most money, but I dealt with every thing without getting upset and just let the crap roll off my back. And all though it wasn’t THE BEST money night, it was the 2nd BEST money night.

And trust me when I say it was not a smooth night at all. The restaurant just spent a trillion dollars getting a state of the art computer system with all the bells and whistles. It has a response time of about 20 seconds. Meaning you touch the screen to ring up a burger and it takes 20 seconds to register that’s what you want. This means it adds minutes to every check you deal with every night. To make matters worse, the entire system was down tonight when the shift started. Luckily it was back up withing 20 or so minutes so it didn’t create too much havoc. Unfortunately at about 10:30 when I was very busy it lost all of my checks. Well sort of. I could see them. I just couldn’t access them. So anytime someone ordered something new, I started a new check. And then when the table was ready to pay I had to get a manger to override the system, combine all the checks and then print it for me. And then if a table was paying with a credit card, once again the manager had to override the system and do the card manually. Of course all of my tables wanted to pay at once and it took forever to take care of them.

But I did not get upset. I just explained to them all that it was a new computer system and that I would get them out as quickly as possible. Most of them found it funny and were fine. Trust me when I say I could have let that ruin my night, but I didn’t. I just rolled with it and let it go.

I only had one bitchy table. They hated everything from the word go. I didn’t get the drinks right. They weren’t in the right glasses. The drink wasn’t pink enough. I wouldn’t give them separate checks. Needless to say, I realized about three minutes in I wasn’t going to get a tip, so I cut my losses and ignored them. I waited on them as much as I had to and was as nice as I could be. They left me exact change on the tab with no tip, just as I expected. I just laughed about it. Some people are just unhappy and there’s nothing I can do about it. The way I see it, 42 other tables thought I was great tonight. One didn’t. I don’t think it was me. On other nights yes, it was me. But not tonight.

Tomorrow (Friday) I have to be at a meeting at 9:00 a.m. for the shows in Oklahoma for next summer. Maybe tomorrow’s post should be Oklahoma Day One?

I’d like to speak to the manager!!!

About two or three weeks ago, I came home frustrated.  Very.  Very.  Frustrated. 

In my frustration, I wrote a very long post about the struggles I was having with my staff. 

The post was really more about me than them.  As I mentioned then, I have no one to vent to at work and I dropped the bomb here. 

In the post, I asked if any of my friends in the world of my readers could help with my struggles. 

And lo and behold, someone reached out. 

An professional who gets paid to deal with similar struggles on a daily basis. 

This was not a close friend.  In fact, when they friended me on Facebook I had to look them up via mutual friends to figure out who they were.  It didn’t take long to find the connection and to remember how our paths had crossed. 

They reached out via messenger and asked me to give them a call. 

It’s taken two weeks but on the way home tonight….I called.

We played catch up at first, but then the conversation was brought back to the reason for the call. 

They, were very, very, very, very helpful.. 

They reminded me that I’m actually good at my job and my struggles are the same struggles no matter the industry. 

They gave me some help in how to deal with my staff that can’t seem to grasp why I want things done the way I do.  The staff who says I have too many rules. 

They even gave me wording for a contract that I could draw up with my staff that lays out the reason I need them to perform at a certain level, and lays out the expectations of that performance. 

They reminded me to take what I wanted and leave the rest.

The conversation continued for more than an hour.  I sat in the garage for 20 minutes chatting when I got home. 

We shared stories of our past together, stories of life since we knew each other. 

At one point though, the person said that they thought I might be being stubborn for the sake of being stubborn.  That sometimes they felt like I was being a dick for the sake of being a dick.  I’m not sure if they used the word dick but the implication was there. 

They brought up stories I’ve told of being stubborn with guests. 

I started to protest, but I shut up and just listened. 

When they were finished I made some points. 

First. 

I owned it. 

Yes.  You are right. 

Sometimes I’m stubborn for the sake of being stubborn.  But I assured them I tended to go there when they came in for a fight. 

They reminded me that they might not be looking for a fight but instead some forgiveness for not playing by the rules.  And that I should try to find forgiveness, kindness and reason before I needed to be right. 

Ugh.  I hate when people are right.  Hate it. 

And they were right.  

They reminded me that if my staff thought I was being a dick for the sake of being a dick I probably was. 

I then went on to say, that sometimes the guest had already been unreasonable before I get to the story. Long before the host calls me to the door to fix the problem. 

The people who come in ready for a fight because they are wealthy and entitled and need to make sure everyone knows it.  I do dig my heels in, because I hate, hate, hate when people use their wealth for bad. 

But I do agree that sometimes that it is not the case. 

I also let them know that just like the news I don’t report on the good.  I don’t tell a lot of the stories of the times I helped people. 

About the times, that I swallowed my pride and did the right thing. 

For example the table of 12 this past weekend that I gave a reservation to, even though it was against the rules, sat them at 2 six tops next to each other and accommodated their requests.  Especially since 7 of them were under the age of 10. 

About the times, that I make Chef mad by over seating the dining room because I won’t tell regulars NO when they call at 4:00 for a reservation on Saturday night.  (This happened this past Saturday, when I took 15 more people than I was supposed to at 5:00). 

About the times, that I made sure their requests were fulfilled. 

I don’t tell these stories because everyone knows a train wreck is far for more interesting to look at. 

And last,  I say that I need to make sure that I start telling people good stories as well as bad so all of you know, I’m not really an asshole. 

In fact, I posted about Chef’s article in the local paper and the first comment on the article at the website was a comment about the staff, led by Jeff F.  A guest tonight told me about that.  It felt good to be recognized. 

The last thing the person said to me before we ended the call was to make sure that ALL of my staff knows of my passion for the restaurant.  My passion for the food.  The service.  The ambiance.  The entire experience. 

If they can believe me when I say it, then they’ll understand why I need them to have the same passion when it comes to their job. 

So take aways:

1. I like my job.
2. I’m passionate.
3. My team does a great job and I should post about that to balance my frustrations.
4. We have great guests and I should balance that with my jerk stories.
5. I should take the high road when they take the low road. 
6. I should put together a contract as part of my ongoing creation of training materials.
7. And I should remember that if I didn’t want everyone to do a good job I wouldn’t be so hard on myself.

And.

That at the end of the day, we are all there to do the best that we can do.  We are all in different places, and it’s my job to get everyone to the same place. 

You know what you never want to do at work?  No matter the job?

Fall on your ass!!!

Tonight the bell rang twice. 

It’s the bat signal.  My time to go to the kitchen to see what’s needed. 

It’s a recook on a NY strip.  It was a little underdone for table 22. 

I leave the kitchen take about 4.5 steps, my feet go out from under me and the next thing I know I’m on my ass, laying on my back by the wait station. 

I lay there for about 30 seconds.

I needed to asses if I was hurt. 

I was not. 

I wasn’t even embarrassed. 

I just hated having to go back and tell chef his steak was on the floor. 

As I walked to the kitchen a food runner walked by me with a new steak for table 22.

I assured everyone I was fine. 

I have a feeling my left knee might be a little sore tomorrow. 

But I’m fine.  

I did remind everyone that at my age, break and hip and it’s all downhill from there.  They didn’t find it funny. 

Mostly because I think chef, knows how fucked we’d be if I couldn’t walk at work. 

This is from July 2017. Proving once again, my staff comes first.

Ever get so mad you are shaking?

I just over heard two guys in our restroom at work saying that they weren’t going to tip our valets because the payment for parking their car was them NOT being in chains. According to them they are lucky for this. They seemed surprised when I asked them to leave. So surprised that they threatened to punch me. I suggested he do it so I could call the cops and the whole thing could be on the evening news.

The man kept up the rant. He told me to shut up because his mom was with him.

I did not know this. I walked up to his mother and told her what he said. Suggested she must be proud of him

You could see her embarrassment.

They finally left.

AAAHHH!!!

Well.

Tonight was an adventure in addition and subtraction.

First. 

I notice around 3:00 that a person has made a reservation for 4 people.  But in her notes she lets us know that they have 2 kids.  Making it 6. 

I love.  Love.  Love.  People who don’t know children are people.  They take up space.  They sit in chairs. 

You needed to make a reservation for 6. 

NOT.

4. 

I change the reservation to 6. 

Meanwhile, at 5:15 a party walks in. 

A woman approaches the host stand and says, “We are the Smith party”. 

The host says, “Yes.  Are you still going to be 5 people?)

The woman replies, “Well actually I tried to make the reservation for 6 but Resy wouldn’t let me.  So I made it for 5 instead.  So we are going to be 6 people”. 

Seriously!!!

I explain that we won’t be able to seat them at 5:15 and might not be able to get them seated until around 5:45.

Part of the reason is that we had to move them to another table and we don’t want to double, or triple seat the server. 

Also, I want to inconvenience them.    Which I know is petty on my part, but what the fuck????

The woman asks why they can’t just be sat at their assigned table, and I have to explain that a table with 5 chairs won’t accommodate a party with 6 people.  It’s basic math.  I also let her know that Resy actually gives you a message that says for more than 5 people call the restaurant.

She wants to know why they have to call…

And the reason is so that I can absolutely control the spread and seating of large parties so the kitchen doesn’t get squashed. 

They wait about 10 minutes and are seated.

Meanwhile. 

I go out to the patio.

I’m out there when a couple walks up and asks if they should check in with us inside or outside. 

I ask their name.

It’s the Jones party. 

She called late in the afternoon to switch her reservation from inside to outside. 

I generally say no to this.

Why? 

Because a lot of people do this.  And it’s not fair to the inside servers who lose reservations all night with people who didn’t want to gamble with the weather,  changing their reservations to outside. 

My standard answer is sorry the patio is fully booked. 

I mark them as arrived, and they head inside.

Only I notice that they are reserved as a party of 5 and there are 7 of them.

I let them walk past and I head to the host stand inside.  I tell the host that the Jones party is reserved as 5 but 7 people are coming in. 

The couple arrives first and says they are the Jones party of 5. 

The host leads them to the table.  But I’m serious.  Its 7 people.  5 grown adults.  And 3 kids that will definitely need chairs. 

The host comes back and says that they are asking for an extra chair. 

I explain that we don’t have extra chairs. 

And we don’t.  Every table is assigned a number of seats.  And we don’t adjust them.  We don’t pull tables together.  We don’t cap tables.  We don’t let people squeeze.  We can comfortably seat parties up to 40 with no problem as long as we know they are going to be that large. 

The host comes back and says they are going to make it work. 

30 minutes later I realize they have commandeered our two high chairs and the 6 year old is sitting in a high chair. 

At 6:00 we have a large party reservation arrive.  They are seated.  With large parties over 9 we use a special 3 course pre-fixe menu.  It’s a ton of food for a not small price.  It’s truly priced so that if you ordered all of the items you are served it would cost the same. 

They are seated.  They are served.  The food comes and goes.  Everything is great.

Once again, I’m standing at the outside host stand when I see the server present the check to the host.  90 seconds later they are walking toward me. 

He approaches and shows me the check. 

He explains that we charged them for 9 adults and 3 children when in fact they only had 8 adults.

UGH!!!!

I explain that I  sent them a contract that they agreed to that was specific about the number of covers we would serve.  It explained that we needed 72 hours’ notice to change the cover count.  It was very specific that no matter how many people who showed we’d be serving food for 12, and they would pay for 12.

He was not happy but said he’d deal with. 

Meanwhile, the party of 6 that I adjust earlier in the day has arrived.  Seems they managed to find a babysitter at the last minute and will only be 4 adult guests.

Kids are people folks. 

Like Soylent Green. 

Like Soylent Green.  (Look it up kids). 

There are few things I will never understand about people.

First are couples who sit at a 4 top and sit across from each other.  You could take the corner.  Hold hands.  Kanoodle. 

But no.

You sit across from each other like you are at a business dinner. 

This happened tonight with a very attractive table. 

If it was a date, it was not going well. 

And.

I don’t understand far-sitters.

People who push out 10 feet from the table.

At table 24 tonight all of them were far sitters.  The table is in the middle of the dining room. 

We larger folks had trouble getting passed. 

They were not large folks.  They just chose to sit 1,985 feet from the table.

The only thing worse is the people who push back and cross their legs, which stick out into the aisle. 

And.

I also don’t understand, people who ask for weird shit on their reservation.

Tonight someone said, to serve a chocolate soufflé for dessert to the table.   

Like seriously. 

We are going to whip up a dessert on command just because you asked. 

It’s as annoying as the guests who yelled at the server because Chef wouldn’t cut the Mexican corn off the cob for the table. 

Last night a table yelled because he wouldn’t carve their steak table side. 

Seriously. 

And I’ll end by saying:

I was out at the patio tonight when a guy walked up to me, fan-girling all over the place about how much he loved, loved, loved the restaurant.  He said, it was actually a problem with him and his wife.  They were traveling with friends and he made the four of them drive three hours out of the way to eat at our restaurant.

WOW.  I was impressed.

So.

I went to the host. And had her move things around so he could have the best possible experience. 

The best table. 

A great server.

They were led to the table and refused to sit there.

They said it was too loud.  I explained why he was being sat there.

They didn’t care.

So I’m sure they had a great experience.

But.

They could have had a stellar, out of this world experience.

But alas.

It was not to be.

I was so annoyed.  I never checked back in with them. 

And last but not least.

We seem to have been discovered as a child friendly restaurant.

On Sunday’s kids eat free.  Hehehe.  (Not really)

The Gallery, where we put large parties, has been a daycare for the past two days. 

Last night we had a 12 top that had 6 adults and 6 kids under 6. 

Tonight we had a 10 top that was 3 adults and 7 kids. 

Under 10. 

Garrett who works in the Gallery every night he is scheduled has started calling it, Garrett’s Day Care. 

It wouldn’t be so bad, but they all share a bunch of stuff. 

Garrett waited on almost 20 guests tonight and his sales were $600.  Around $35 per person. 

On what should have been a great night, he made $75 dollars.

Yes, you win some, you lose some, but it’s frustrating. 

After dinner, the 10 top sent the 7 kids with one of the adults and the 2 remaining made out in the parking lost by the kitchen door.

You can’t make this shit up.

Occasionally the hosts get lost. 

They seat a table and for get to mark it as seated. 

Then they wonder why they haven’t shown up yet. 

Several times since I’ve worked there, the hosts have called a guest to see if they are still coming, only to have the guest say, we are seated and just got our drinks.

It’s embarrassing.

It’s also kind of funny. 

That happened yesterday.

But that’s not what this story is about.

Last night a guest checked in. 

They were an 8:00 reservation and arrived at 7:30.  They were told it would be closer to 8:00 before we could get them seated. 

They said great.  We’ll go to the outside bar and get drinks.

And we never heard from them again. 

There were no unaccounted for tables.

They didn’t answer their phone when we called.

They didn’t respond to the texts we sent them asking where they were.

They didn’t call to complain when I charged the $100 for not showing up to eat. 

They just disappeared into thin air.

For the life of me I have no idea what happened.

Perhaps they were marked arrived by mistake. 

Perhaps they got tired of waiting and went to McDonald’s. 

Perhaps they were seated and don’t realize they’ve been charged yet.

It’s a mystery. 

This has never happened to me before.

I’ll keep you posted. 

Whew!

First.

I’m fucking tired. I’m at 42.5 hours in four days. I have two more to go. I’ll be at 65 hours by the end of the week.

But.

No pity. I signed up for this. I knew this going into the summer.

And the funny thing is, that I’m having so much fun. Every day my staff impresses me. I have the strongest team, I’ve ever had.

Tonight, a fellow restaurant manager, from in town was in sitting at the bar. We were commiserating. She said that all of her inexperienced babies (her word) made up for their lack of polish by desire to do a good job and to aspire to be the best that they can be.

The same is true for me right now. Not all of my team has the finesse I’d like, but their guests love them because they are so lovely. Kind. Friendly. Sweet. And engaging.

As for me, the restaurant continues to kill it. Our busiest night last year was on August 14th. We tied that number tonight. We’ve only been 10 or so behind it, every day this week. Tonight’s revenue broke last year’s record by several thousand dollars. It’s fun to continue to break records, while my staff stands around saying, uh…when is the push going to come.

Meanwhile, not one person has shown up with a party of 12 after having made three 4-top reservations. I changed the wording on the reservation site and said that we would NOT seat you together if you showed up with a party of 6 or more having made smaller reservations. I was also made to feel better when I chatted with a fellow manager so shared that she had gone to our reservation site to see if our system was ambiguous. She assured me the site was very clear on how to make a larger reservation.

Speaking of larger reservations.

For parties of 10 or more we require them to use our family style menu.

Does everyone know what family style means???

For those confused like Mary was, it means we are going to send out platters of food that you and your friends will share.

Mary, had a hard time understanding that.

First she sent me back her adjustments to the menu, requesting things we don’t even offer.

Then she shared that she was trying to save us the embarrassment of having people order things off the regular menu.

Then she decided they would all just order from the regular menu.

Then she decided they’d come when the party was smaller.

Seriously. She was saving us embarrassment of having people order off the regular menu.

Meanwhile, tonight we had a party of 10 in at 8:00 using the family style menu.

At 8:00 on 1 person had arrived. At 8:30 only 3 people had arrived. Finally around 8:45 five people were at the table. By this time, Chef was insisting we start the process. At 8:50 apps for 10 were served to the table.

At 9:00 the server comes and lets me know it’s only going to be 5 people, wanting to know what to do.

I explain it to him.

Then I go the table.

I apologize for intruding, but let them know that when the reservation was booked they were sent a contract. And the contract was for 10 people. I continued by saying we’d be sending out food for 10 people. They were welcome to take leftovers but that we’d started cooking their food as soon as the fist person sat so that they wouldn’t wait a long time between courses. It was truly too late to change the food content.

This meant that they paid a certain, not inexpensive dollar amount for 10 people instead of 5 people.

Luckily, they did not put up a stink and never said a word.

I actually felt bad because it was one of their birthdays and their friends didn’t show. Seriously. Rude.

Meanwhile, at the same time. Table 11 was sending back one of their 2” cowboy cut ribeye steaks because it was too rare. I was standing at the wait station 5 feet away when it happened.

The server explained what was happening as he walked to the kitchen.

What seemed like five minutes later I was speaking with one of the Chef’s table who was praising everyone. Their server. The Chef. Explaining that we were so much better than the steak houses in California where they live.

In the midst of this, their server walks up and pulls me aside. Table 11 has flagged her down wanting to know where their steak is.

So I excuse myself, and check in with the kitchen.

It’s a 2” steak. It’s going to take a moment. But Chef ultimately, pulls it off the grill and puts it on a plate and gives it to me.

I take it to the table.

I set it down and the woman is clearly annoyed.

I say, I hear you were asking about your steak. Here it is.

She immediately launches in to why it took so long.

I explain that it’s a large format steak and it takes 10 to 15 minutes to bring it up another temp?

She says, well it’s clearly been longer than 10 minutes.

And I say, well actually it hasn’t been, I was standing there when the server took it from you it’s been 6 or 7 minutes at most. And as I said it takes 10 to 15 to bring it up to temp.

She then says, well perhaps if it wasn’t served raw this wouldn’t have happened.

I explain that it was NOT raw. It might have been on the rare side, but there was a nice sear on the steak and that chef never minded cooking steaks up a little more.

She is mad at me at this point.

She then wants to know why it wasn’t cooked to the specific temperature to begin with.

Ugh.

Seriously.

I say, Chef does his best and sometimes things get sent out a little early.

I don’t apologize but I walk away.

She is clearly annoyed with me. Two minutes later the server says, that she told him she would deal with this on her way out.

Oh. Yes. I bet you would.

20 minutes later I’m chatting with a guest when I see the woman from table 11 head to the host stand.

I get there just as she enters the restroom but she’s asked to speak with me.

I wait.

She comes out and launches into her complaint.

Hi. I’m from New York, but we have a summer home in Biddeford Pool. We eat at all the best restaurants in New York City and we’d never have been corrected if we’d had to send back a steak in New York.

I explain that I didn’t correct her. I just explained that you can’t bring a 2”steak up a temp in 5 minutes.

Then she says, well perhaps if it had been served correctly in the first place. If the chef is going to own a steak house he might want to learn how to cook a steak.

Oh. No. You. Dihn’t.

Seriously. The man cooked over 200 steaks tonight. He knows how to cook a steak.

She continues explaining that the steak was cooked raw. I correct her and say, no it was rare. NOT raw.

She then says it was inedible and impossible to cut.

I follow up by saying we’d have been happy to cook the steak more. It would have been easy to put more fire on it and bring it up even more.

She once again says it should have been cooked correctly in the first place.

I say, that I’m sorry you were unhappy with your steak but we’d have been glad to cook it more.

She continues to talk at me. NOT loud. But clearly annoyed at me. Continuing to tell me about ALL the restaurants in NYC they eat at that are perfect. Etc.

I just stand and look at her, consciously not engaging.

Finally, she realizes she is not going to get a fight and walks away.

I fully expected the server to ask for the steaks to be taken off the bill.

Instead, they were wrapped up and taken home with them. Would anyone take an inedible piece of food home with them.

They did tip their server well.

But it did put an element of not nice in the end of the evening.

But it was the first time all week. So we can live with it.

It’s late. I have not edited, not proofed any part of this post.

Please be forgiving.

Summer has arrived in Maine.

The sun has been shining constantly. There’s been little rain. Our lawn is a nice shade of tan.

With this temperature change comes the turning on of the air conditioning.

With it comes all the headaches you can imagine.

Everyone in the first turn is cold. You can guess the age of people who eat at 5:00. No one complains during the second turn. It just the 5:00ers.

And I’m amazed at the number of people who lose their shit about making it warmer in the dining room. Last week a woman told her server that she couldn’t feel her fingers and that her lips were turning blue. It was 72 in the dining room.

Two weeks ago a man left a 30% survey score because he was cold.

And if it’s not the air conditioning it’s the level of the music.

Table G1 ask for the music to be turned down 1,457,894 times tonight.

The volume never changes.

Ever.

It’s been the same since I started. Yes, it’s loud. But it’s the level Chef wants. He pays the mortgage he can set the level as he sees fit.

Fun thing about both of these issues.

The air. Nor the music are going to be changed for the sake of one person.

It’s set for the good of the whole.

Socialism at its best.

It’s not even just for guests.

Our air conditioning thermostat fluctuates between 69 and 71. None of these is cold. And it’s for our staff as much as it is for guests.

Who wants to watch your server melt in front of you.

Not to mention that we have an 18 foot wide open fire about 35 feet from bar. It’s warm.

So if you are a person who tends toward the chilly side, bring a sweater. You’ll be much happier than sitting there being miserable because we won’t change the temp.

And it’s totally not cool to demand your comfort supersede anyone else’s.

Was reading through reservations for tomorrow.

One had a guest note saying: “I’m allergic to red meat. Crazy huh?”

Here’s the thing. I don’t know what she can eat. There is a huge chance of cross contamination. Red meat is everywhere. Especially if it’s a true allergy.

I’ll report back after she dines with us.