We got a mediocre review last week.

Their complaint?

A table of 8 had to share one salt shaker.

No.

Seriously.

That was her complaint.

PS. Chef’s food does not need salt.

I’d like to speak to the manager!!!

A regular was in tonight for his son’s high school graduation. 20 of them.

I’ve written about them before.

They are very particular. And not used to being told no.

The father comes up to me and says I need you to do me a favor. We are going back to our house after dinner and one of the guests likes a very specific drink and I don’t have the ingredients at my house. Can I get some Captain Morgan to go?

WTF?

NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO.

No you can’t.

I’ll tell you the same thing I tell kids who wanted to order liquor while under aged.

Pay my mortgage for a year right now so that when I lose my job I’m not homeless.

He didn’t push back but seriously.

Cheeseboard lady complained about me.

This was her survey response.

Two meals were undercooked but they took it back and cooked it further. The empanadas and salads were great. Outdoor seating is great and they should spray off the yellow pollen on the ground to complement the scenery. We had a cheese plate to bring to a party and the manager refused to provide ice or refrigerate it for us. Luckily one of the waitresses brought us some ice.

First.

The steaks they ordered were ordered well done.

The were delivered well done.

But using their own words they wanted them done.

Dead. Was the word she used.

They went back out charred.

When I checked back they were happy.

As for the pollen.

I’d like to formally apologize that our patio is outside. I’d like to apologize that in nature pollen falls from the sky. We will speak to GOD and see if we can work something out.

Fun fact. Our staff spends the first 30 minutes when they get to work wiping pollen off the tables. By the time we seat our first guests they are yellow again.

There is no way we could keep up with the pollen on the brick patio.

As for the cheese plate.

I don’t even know what to say.

They knew the answer when they made the phone call.

If not they would have never asked.

A failure to plan on your part does not make it my fault.

This one leaves me speechless.

First.

I’m tired.

We continue to do record numbers. The numbers we did tonight we weren’t doing till mid July last year. A month after I started.

How tired am I?

I fell asleep writing my last post last night. I woke up with my phone in my hand three hours later. The sun was coming up. The typos in all of my poats from last night were embarrassing.

I’m also overwhelmed.

I‘ve been in the weeds since March. There is no catching up. There are days I twiddle my thumbs mostly because I don’t have the energy to do the next thing.

It’s the first restaurant general manager job I’ve had where I didn’t have a number 2 and a number 3.

I’ve always had staff.

I hadn’t written a schedule in years when I started this job. I hadn’t created sections in years. I hadn’t ordered liquor in years.

My people did that.

Im a one man band.

I do ALL of the administrative work. I write the schedule. I answer the phone. I return the calls. I now respond to the hundreds of requests that come in for large party reservations. For information on weddings and rehearsal dinners. I do payroll. I maintain (I misspelled this word in a spelling bee in 1979) the tip spreadsheet. I track sales. I am accountable for deposits. I do all the interviewing. I do all the hiring. I track all the new hires. Do all the orientation meetings. All the onboarding for new hires. Did o mention that I had about 40 calls today from the time I got to work and turned over the phones to the host team?

Im exhausted just typing that.

It’s also the first time I’ve spent service hours on the floor. In previous restaurants I was available but I was often in the office. This is not possible now. We are too busy. At 4:50 when we open the doors I’m on. Shaking hands. Putting out fires. Running recooks. Dealing with the weather. Doing voids and comps.

Im a busy man.

So.

This was a long introduction to my post tonight.

Tonight was the hardest easy night I have ever had.

It was SMOOTH.

BUT.

The night started with my new host arriving. Great. I’m super happy to have her join the team. But I also remember I never sent her floor plans.

While I’m meeting with the hosts to give them instructions for the evening a young man walks in dressed in black.

He says hello.

Who is this. I look at him. I look at him. I look at him.

Oh fuck.

He the son of a friend of the restaurant. I hired him in March.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

He’s arrived without going through orientation. I have no paperwork for him.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

I get the hosts squared away.

I get the new guy squared away.

I spend the next six minutes swallowing my lunch whole.

We finish preshift. It’s time to open the doors. No music.

Fuck.

This has been happening a lot lately. Turns out that Amazon Prime wants chef to pay extra for the music. He thought he’d taken care of it.

No big deal. He’s on it.

Except.

Every. Single. Server.

Comes to me and says, you know the music is not on!

Seriously?

I hadn’t noticed that it was as quiet as could be with a restaurant full of people.

Chef gets the music on.

Whew.

I head to the patio.

I need to make sure they are all set.

They are.

I’m there five seconds when an indoor host appears saying I’m needed at the door.

I head back inside.

A host is on the phone with a lady who wants to bring a cheeseboard to the restaurant.

Seriously.

I take the phone.

The lady explains they have a cheeseboard with them. It’s hot. She insists I put it in the walk-in while they dine with us.

I explain that I can’t go this.

She pushes back.

I say no.

She asks for ice.

I say we don’t have plastic bags.

(I‘d like to point out that this is not our problem. Also drive by the grocery store, pick up a hot/cold bag. And you’ll be all set).

Meanwhile a two top has been seated whose family called to pay for their meals.

The couple wants to buy two copies of chef’s new cookbook.

Did I mention chef has a cookbook.

The couple wants it signed. Chef is now 20 tickets deep into cooking.

I have a 20 minute conversation about cookbooks.

It was probably 3 minutes but it felt like 20.

The chaos continues.

All little things. None of them serious.

Until 6:45 when I head to the patio only to discover that it is raining.

WHAT THE ABSOLUTE FUCK???

Seriously.

If it didn’t rain by 4:00 we were in the clear.

The rain lasted about 7 minutes.

Thank god everyone outside was jovial about. Some tables didn’t even move. They could see the sun behind the clouds.

The rain stopped. We dried the chairs and tables.

And finally.

Finally my night became okay.

Getting back to the start of my post.

Last Saturday I was chatting with a server after close. It was a fun chat. And I don’t remember how it came up but I ask him for feedback.

He said I was disorganized.

I’m not. I’m really not.

Im just too busy and have to prioritize things.

I told my new host tonight that I was going to stop apologizing for not being prepared.

I’m doing the best I can.

I challenge someone to do it better without coming in several hours earlier.

Tonight was a good night.

I’m proud of where I work.

I really do love my job.

I’d like to speak to the manager!!!

For the past ten months, 80% of the phone calls we’ve received have been fielded by me.

I either answer.

Or I return the call.

This isn’t a bad thing.

But there are people who thing I have to be involved to get what they want.

Tonight, I approach the host stand and Olivia, the host says, she’s had two calls asking for me specifically.

She has explained that I’m not available. Exactly as she has been instructed to do.

One of the calls is from a local business, a woman I know well.

This is important because 20 minutes later this woman is in our lobby calling me over.

She wants to introduce me to her friends.

Three people from Arkansas.

Very. Very. Very thick accents.

She has arrived with them.

They have a reservation for 2 people but have shown up with three people.

We are booked solid.

I turn the iPad toward me and find a solution.

Now they want to sit at the bar to have a drink first.

They are 60 minutes early for their reservation.

I figure that issue out.

They are seated.

And then they pull out their racist bullshit. Chatting about the Asian couple seated near them. Muslims.

Bullshit.

The bartender is losing her mind.

They also tell the bartender that I called them white trash.

Hmmm.

Those words are not in my vocabulary.

I’ve had those words used to describe be.

I don’t use them.

They just need to be human beings.

Not assholes.

I’d like to speak to the manager!!!

Summer is definitely here.

Our numbers have increased.

But.

More importantly the grumpy people have increased a million times over.

I told one server tonight to just preface her issue with “the summer people are here.”

Tonight a server asked a table how they’d like their steak cooked. He said charred.

She explained that charred wasn’t a temperature.

This he began to berate her.

Being difficult for the sake of being difficult.

She asked if he wanted it Pittsburg style.

He said no because that was raw in the middle.

He continues to lecture her.

She finally ordered it Pittsburgh medium.

He didn’t complain.

Then table 25 gets their steak.

Send it back because it’s over cooked.

The server brings it to the kitchen. It had been ordered medium.

In the kitchen.

Under the bright lights.

It was a perfect medium.

I’m called to the kitchen to be shown the steak.

I’m told to go speak to the table.

I do.

I explain the steak is a perfect medium. Etc. etc.

The guest says. And I repeat. I did not order a medium steak. I ordered it pink.

Pink is not a temperature.

Pink is not choice.

The guest takes the steak back.

Then at the first opportunity in front of the server makes a show of pushing it aside.

He of course took the steak home with him in a doggy bag.

One of my servers tonight said we should offer our guest a tract like the Jehovah Witnesses. We’ll call it an Introduction to our Lord and Savior: Common Sense.

It would lay out the rules of eating in a restaurant.

I couldn’t agree more.

Fun fact: Menus change. Often.

Everyone who wants to stay current changes their menu.

We changed ours a month ago.

A table of 4 was in tonight.

One of the guests accosts me in the lobby to let me know her thoughts on the changes.

She is pissed that the avocado salad is no longer on the menu. Pissed she says.

She is also angry that her cheeseburger wasn’t served with lettuce, tomato and onion. She is really angry that there was no lettuce that could be brought to her after she received her burger.

I just listen.

She clearly thought she was dining at Burger King where you can have it your way.

However, at my restaurant we do not add anything to the burger.

You can’t get sautéed onions as we don’t have a flat top to sauté them on.

You can’t get avocado.

You can’t get LTO.

You can’t.

Why you ask?

Because when you are doing volume special rea quests can kill the kitchen.

I worked at a restaurant that had a Cobb salad.

No one.

I repeat no one.

Ever ordered the salad that was on the menu.

Can I get no bleu cheese. No onion. Extra bacon. Add chicken. Can the chicken not have seasoning. And can you split it.

Meanwhile there are 14 of these salads in the kitchen. And inevitably it gets made wrong. Or taken to the wrong table.

So we will allow deletions.

No additions.

She was not happy with me.

She said it was weird.

Hmmm.

Tonight at 8:00 a bunch people walk in.

A woman walks up and says we are the Smith party of 10.

I say we don’t have a Smith party of 10.

She explains oh, yes, we made two 5 top reservations.

Ugh.

I explain that unfortunately they can’t sit together. In fact we have them at 2 separate tables, in two private rooms.

This starts chaos on their part.

This is my favorite thing that people do.

Often when we say no, the party will wander into the dining room and then come back to explain how we can make it work.

Tonight’s party did that.

Two women wander in.

They are back in 90 seconds to explain that they can sit in one of the rooms.

I explain that they cap out at 8.

They wonder back in.

Come back and say they’ll make it work.

I say no.

I finally send them in to be seated at their two tables and 90 seconds later a man appears and wants to know why they can’t just squish and I say because it’s not fair to the server whose been waiting on a five top all night.

He say oh. Okay.

They sit at two separate tables.

The host as she’s seating them says, next time just call the restaurant we have large rooms we could have put you in but unfortunately they are just not available tonight.

I don’t have a lot of patience who think they are getting one over on us.

The app says call for parties over 6.

The website says call for parties over 6.

So call. For parties over 6.

Tonight a server finds me in the lobby.

She is holding a bottle about the size of a nip.

A nip for those who don’t know is the New England term for a tiny airplane bottle of booze.

It’s not a nip.

It’s a bottle of some flavoring.

She explains that her table has brought in their own ingredients for a cocktail. They just need to use our booze.

This is a first ever for me.

I have to explain that NO we can’t do that. People can’t bring their own products.

As I said it’s a first for the bar.

I have had people show up with a cooler and want the chef to cook the seafood they brought from their fishing trip.

Either way.

It’s a hard NO.

I’d like to speak to the manager!!!

I just sat down to read Facebook.

This was in my messages. From work.

It’s 12 hours later. I never responded. I’m not on Facebook or my phone during work.

I have no idea if she came in for dinner tonight.

We could have easily accommodated her if she wanted to.

She just needed to call.