A woman walks into the lobby. The host asks her how her dinner was.

She replies:

Fucking amazing! Fucking great! It’s the first time I’ve ever had a food orgasm.

And scene.

I’d like to speak to the manager!!!

Our reservation app asks if you have any special requests.

These are some that we have received.

A table on the water: We are a mile + from any sort of water.

A table near the fireplace: we don’t have a fireplace.

A table with a view: We don’t have a view.

Two seats at the corner of the bar: our bar is horseshoe shaped. It doesn’t have corners.

A table in a quiet corner: we don’t have a single table in a corner.

A quiet table: Our restaurant is loud. The music is at 100%. Quiet doesn’t exist.

I often wonder when they are seated in the center of the dining room if they are upset.

Perhaps I’ll never know.

It’s my Friday!!!

By the time you read this it will be my Satunday.

I get one day off.

Three weeks ago I was overwhelmed by this fact. Not because I mind working, but because I miss spending time with my boyfriend.

I still hate not getting to see him, but I’ve resigned myself to just doing it. Something to get through.

I enjoy the business. I enjoy the volume. I enjoy the excitement. The chaotic energy at 4:00. The opening of the show at 5:00.

On Wednesday it will be one year since I started.

I like my job just as much now as I did then.

I’m happy I can say that.

I’d like to speak to the manager!!!

How are you guys?

Thank you, sir!

Yes m’am.

Welcome ladies.

I’ve written about this before. But it bears repeating.

I continue to coach my staff to use non gendered language. My day of yes m’am and no sir are gone.

After years of hating the term “folks” I’m a convert.

AnytIme I hear it I make a note to mention it to the team.

It’s not easy to change a thing that has been ingrained in a lot of us since birth.

But I try.

So try.

Hi folks. How are you doing tonight?

I was reminded of this because my old host had written a note to remind my new host about it.

It takes a little effort but even you can change.

Our chef has released a new cookbook. It’s truly beautiful.

Tonight a woman comes up to ask if a specific dish is in the book.

I assure her that it is.

She then asks if it would be okay to take a photo of the recipe.

Seriously.

I say no.

If you want the recipe you have to buy the book.

She is offended that I won’t let her take a photo.

But I stand my ground.

She does not buy the book.

A woman calls around 6:00 to let us know that she had originally started with 5 people, called and dropped to 4 and now wants go back to 5.

The host explains that unfortunately we don’t have a table that will hold 5 people available. We’d closed our patio tonight and inside was jammed.

They insist that they can squish because one of them is a kid. I tell the host that we’ll let them squish but they can’t move and they can’t add a chair.

They arrive.

Are seated.

And the host finds me to let me know their child is an adult woman. Who I find out later is old enough to drink.

Seriously.

You can’t make this shit up!

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.