I’d like to speak to the manager!!!

Hmmm.

Last Friday and Saturday I charged more people for missing their reservations than the sum total since I started.

The fallout has been huge.

And difficult.

And fun.

And hard.

All at the same time.

First.

I discussed with the owner today about whether it’s worth losing a customer over a 4 top that is a no show.

It’s a hard scenario.

Yes we want to respect and honor our base.

But.

We had a ridiculous amount of cancellations last Friday and Saturday.

But he agrees.

Something needs to stop.

We are hiring, scheduling, stocking, prepping for the reservations we have.

If we lose more than a 100 guests it’s a problem for us our staff and our guests we turn away.

I’m still getting complaints.

Tonight a woman reached out.

She had a reservation for last Friday.

She realized Friday afternoon she couldn’t find the gift card she was given by a friend.

She calls the restaurant to ask how to get the number.

It was an electronic gift card.

Ordered online.

The host relays that we need the last four of the credit card, the amount and the approximate date.

And we can find it.

She is also told that we won’t be able to look it up tonight as service has started and it takes a while.

20 minutes later 15 minutes into service the woman cancels.

I charge her for the reservation.

She is upset that we couldn’t look up the reservation on Friday at 5:15 on a holiday weekend.

She is upset that we can’t just use the name of the purchaser.

She is upset she was charged $50.

She is upset that she has to get additional information from her friend.

She is angry that she can’t find the text message she received since her phone died and was replaced.

FUN FACT:

None of this is my fault.

It’s busy. I can’t step off the floor for ten minutes to look up your card.

We use our POS for gift cards. The name of the purchaser isn’t even collected.

I need the last four of the credit card to do anything.

But.

The most FUNNEST Fact of all.

We don’t ever ever ever ever ever ever ever text a gift card.

Ever.

Ever.

Ever.

It’s an email.

Your phone number isn’t even asked for.

So unless Google has closed your gmail account you can access your gift card.

And somehow.

Somehow.

On Friday night.

Of Memorial Day Weekend.

This is my fault.

Meanwhile.

I need to reply to her email.

And it will be necessary to be kind.

All the while not being my fault.

Thoughts?

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.

Anyone who knows me I don’t miss a meal.

I am not one to miss a meal.

Except.

Tonight I was sitting at the chef’s table and realized I was light headed. I kept asking myself what the fuck was going on.

And then I realized I never had anything to eat all day.

Not my lunch.

Not my peach.

Nada.

No wonder I was fuzzy.

I remedied the situation by doing something I never ever ever do. I stopped at Burger King on my way home. Whopper with cheese. Small fry.

Yum!!!

Thank you to everyone who checked in today.

I’m fine.

Last night I got 11 hours of very sound, very solid sleep.

I woke up a new man.

Sleep.

It does a body good.

I also had a friend stop by work this afternoon to say hi. She was in the area and thought why not!

It was great to see her and she reminded me that what I was feeling was what all of us in the seasonal hospitality business are going through right now.

The easiness of winter is gone.

We are short staffed.

The realization of summer hours is setting in.

We are remembering that our next real time off is in October.

And most importantly of all that we’ve been doing it for years and that with the stress comes the fun and excitement of volume and crowds.

And that in three minutes from now it will be September and we’ll be wondering where the summer went.

The day at work was great.

All is well on the western front.

I’ve struggled with depression my whole life.

For the past twenty years it’s mostly been at bay. It rears it’s ugly head occasionally. Most recently when my mom died. That was the worst it had been in years.

It has come back.

And.

I can tell you exactly why!

The school shooting did a number on me.

I feel like we live in a country that is the upside down. There are people who are our neighbors that love their guns so much that a dead 10 year old Girl Scout is worth the price of keeping that gun.

There is nothing I own that I feel trumps the life of your children.

Couple the shooting with being overwhelmed at work, along with not seeing Adam much these days, with not having slept well in over a week and I’m feeling it.

The last couple of work days have been a struggle.

I have been moved by the people at work who have noticed how quiet I have been lately. They have noticed I’m not myself.

Tonight at the end of my shift I was reading through our online reviews.

This was the first one I read:

Not sure if he’s the owner, manager, or matre’d but he couldn’t be more friendly or happy to have you there. Been here multiple times and am always happy with the food and service.

I needed that tonight.

Very much so.

I am happy you are there.

I’d like to speak to the manager!!!

Yesterday I charged around 30 people $25 per person for their missed reservations.

The phone lit up with in 30 seconds.

People insisting that it wasn’t fair.

You’re right.

It wasn’t fair to not show up for your reservation.

Fun fact.

I can’t reverse the charge.

The only recourse is to contact their credit card.

Today a woman called and I spoke with her.

She had cancelled around 3:30.

She insisted that I definitely had time to fill the slot.

I assured her that was not the case. We’d turned people away all day.

She insisted it wasn’t her fault. It was the cost of doing business.

I said, you’re absolutely right and we are covering some of that cost.

She told me she’d never return if we didn’t reverse the charge and that it was a bad business practice.

I assured her that was her choice but that I would not and could not reverse the charge.

Whoops.

Another man called twelve times tonight wanting to speak with me.

He even left a message at 10:45 tonight.

He cancelled a reservation for six. Then rebooked for 4. How would I know he did that. We held a table for 6. Staffed for a table of 6. Turned people away based on a table for six.

Sorry. Not sorry.

I’d like to speak to the manager!!!

Tonight a server comes to me to tell me of a situation.

A table ordered a bottle of bubbles.

Server gets the bottle. Presents it to the table.

They confirm it’s the bottle they ordered. She opens it and pours.

30 minutes later they call her over to tell her it’s the wrong bottle. The ordered the 375. Not the 750.

Seriously.

You didn’t realize that when she presented it to you.

Seriously.

The bottle you requested is tiny.

I am pissed.

The server is new. She insists it was her fault. She wants to pay.

I assure her I can deal with it but she says no.

But fuck that.

They knew what they were doing.

I’d like to speak to the manager.

We were busy tonight. The 7th most revenue ever.

I answer the phone around 3:45.

It’s a regular looking for a reservation.

I have space. I book them.

Then.

They insist on a specific server.

Hahaha.

I laugh.

The floor plan is mapped out for the night.

They’d have needed to call two weeks ago to get that.

They are not happy.

I don’t apologize but explain it’s too late in the day to remedy it.

They arrive.

And are seated.

And they are assholes to their server.

There is nothing worse than approaching a table knowing that you were not their first choice.

They were a pain from start to finish.

That is all.

Tonight around 5:45 I answer the phone.

It’s a woman who responds to my greeting with: hi. We are the smiths. We have a reservation for 5 at 6:30 for 5 but we are really going to be 6.

I thank her for calling but say, I’m sorry but can’t accommodate a party of 6 at 6:30.

She can’t comprehend this.

I explain that we moved over 100 people inside because the patio was closed.

She insists we have to accommodate them. M
I explain that we don’t have a table for 6 at 6:30.

She insists I have too because they live on Marshall Point Road and come all the time.

I apologize but tell her it’s not possible.

3 seconds later and I talking to her husband.

We live on Marshall Pount Road, come all the time and you MUST accommodate us.

I apologize again. Explain that the patio is closed. There’s nothing I can do.

He is having none if that.

He says he’ll call back later to see if there’s a cancellation.

I assure him there won’t be.

He hangs up on me.

6:30 comes and goes and they don’t show.

Motherfucker!

I ended up trying to charge them but there credit card is out of date.

Motherfucker!

This is a long post.

With lots of fun twists and turns.

Last year the largest reservation we’d take was 12.

I spent the summer saying no to 13,14,15 tops.

Over the winter, chef came up with a family style menu we could use for large parties. It would make it easier for the kitchen and and a great experience for the guests.

Tonight we had our first large party reservation.

14 people. At 8:00.

They arrive. They are seated.

14 seconds later the server appears to let me know they’ve moved the tables together.

Fuck.

The area they are sitting in has four large farm tables that we do not move.

Ever.

Ever.

Because.

When they are pulled together the servers can’t serve the middle of the table.

They are stupidly heavy and were stupidly expensive to buy as they were crafted by a friend of chefs.

I march into the area.

They are still arranging chairs.

They are loud and boisterous.

I say hello. No one on pays attention.

Eventually, I clap my hands and raise my voice.

I say, we do not move the tables. Ever. We discussed this when the reservation was made.

They’ve stopped talking. They are looking at me like I’m stupid.

Why not?

Because I said do.

Why.

Because they are heavy. They cost thousands of dollars. Because the server can’t get to the middle of the table.

Someone asks if it’s because it’s a fire hazard.

I say yes. That two.

The a woman looks at me and says, well what do you want us to do?

I say put them back.

The same woman looks me in the eye and says, you mean you want us to put them back.

Yes. Yes. Yes. I fucking want up you to do the heavy lifting.

They move the tables.

I leave.

I feel guilty for being brusque.

I make a point to ignore them.

Their meal goes off without a hitch. Except they thought family style meant they could order off the menu.

Meanwhile.

I’m at the host stand around 9:15 when a man and woman enter the lobby. He goes to the restroom. I talk to his girl friend.

I ask her how her meal was.

She says amazing. She launches into how great the restaurant is. Her boyfriend is here for the first time.

We chat for a few.

At one point after her boyfriend joins us, she says that she was impressed by how I handled the big table.

They were seated at a 2 top next to it.

Her boyfriend says it’s the epitome of privileged.

She says that how I handled the table was perfect.

I thank them and tell them I was worried I was abrupt.

They both assure me that I was perfect.

It was great. Dinner and a show.

We continue chatting.

In the course of the conversation she mentions that she lives in Portland.

I mention that I moved here 10 years ago yesterday.

She lives on Munjoy Hill. Her family has been here for ever. I tell her my best friends who got me to live here lives on Lafayette street.

The conversation continues.

At some point I mention the our best friends Michelle and Lisa….

She stops me.

She says Lisa and Michelle? I know Lisa and Michelle Morgan. I know LK Weiss. I know Sheila and Julia Kirby.

What the fuck.

We both scream.

She literally knows our entire friend group.

She’s even having dinner with our friend LK on Monday.

She’s even seen all of their shows.

I tell her to tell everyone that I said hello.

Meanwhile. The 14 top is moving along.

Around 10:45 one of them comes into the dining room to use the restroom. She asks if they are keeping us.

I assure her they are fine.

When she comes back, I follow her to the table.

I step up the two steps.

I apologize for being abrupt. They don’t know what I’m talking about.

I tell them they are our first large party reservation.

I thank them. Tell them how grateful we are. And I ask them how the meal was.

It was perfect.

I ask if it was enough food.

They hold up their to go bags.

One of the women is hugging me and loving everything.

I finish.

I join chef back at the chefs table.

40 minutes later they start to leave.

The next thing I know all of the women are hugging me telling me how great the experience was, the staff was.

I invite them back to sit on the patio.

They leave.

It’s a late night.

But they left late.

I made a new friend.

Life was good.