The weather was stunning here today.

Goodbye winter.

Hello summer.

Our patio is not open yet. It’s going to open next Wednesday.

However.

It was definitely warm enough to sit outside.

We got a couple of calls today looking to sit outside.

I explained each time that the patio wasn’t open yet.

The last call of the afternoon looking to sit outside says, well can I order at the bar and just carry it outside.

Ugh. We are an upscale restaurant.

No. You can’t.

However I just say, we have tables but no chairs yet.

So no you can’t.

They hang up.

I put the phone call on my things to write about.

Someone at work today asked me if I still like my job.

Fun fact.

I do. Very much. I don’t have anxiety getting out of bed. Driving to work. I don’t worry that the owners are going to come in and fire me. I don’t worry that I’m never going to make bonus. That our costs are off. We have a great team. Yes we have our days, but it’s pretty awesome.

But.

One of the things I’ve struggled with since I started is that we are not open for lunch. Which means there is no one to make me lunch.

On my first day arrived at 1:00. It wasn’t until almost 10:00 that I was offered food. That all day with nothing to eat.

It’s been almost a year and it’s only been since January that I decided to bring my lunch. First it was salad. Lately it’s a sandwich, along with a half pint side that I buy at the grocery store. Cole slaw. Potato salad. Peanut noodles.

I make my lunch every morning before I go to work.

Yesterday, I couldn’t because neither Adam nor I made it to the grocery store. So I went to work empty handed.

I had planned to order lunch from the grocery up the store and have an employee stop and pick it up.

But my day exploded. When I looked up it was 3:50 and I’d never called my order in. By this time my staff is arriving.

I’m also starving by this point.

I ask Lorrie if she’d run get my sandwich if I ordered it. She’s gracious enough to do so and I call it in and give her my debit card.

Off she goes to get my roast beef sandwich and Cole slaw.

Of course she gets there they have no slaw. She texts asking if potato salad is okay but she’s back before I even see the text. She has potato salad in tow.

I’m forever grateful. I start to eat and a man walks thru the back door.

He’s the front door was locked. I’m looking for the manager.

I say I’m the manager.

He says…I’m here with your cole slaw.

I’m dumbfounded.

He explains it wasn’t made when I ordered it. He went on break and brought it to me.

I thank him profusely and tell him to come in for a beer sometime on me.

He leaves.

I eat.

All is good in the world.

PS. This is the same grocery store that got angry with me last fall when I’d order a sandwich and say, “you know it would be cheaper to make this at home and bring it to work.”

Last summer we took no reservation over 12 people.

It’s the most that could be seated in our semi private rooms. The tables held 12 people.

No reservations over 12.

Period.

In March we got new chairs.

The rooms only hold 10 now.

So no reservations over 10.

Unless.

You order off the Chef’s pre fixe menu.

He created the menu last fall. It’s what he serves his friends when they bring 10+ people to the restaurant.

It offers all the popular items from our regular menu.

So for the past three months I’ve been sending out this menu to larger parties. Most have said yes.

But.

Some people get upset.

They want to order off the menu. They want choice.

But.

The Supreme Court has spoken.

And 12 tops don’t get choice.

And I told a gentleman that today.

After he told me all the ways he was upset.

Finally he asked:

What if I just show up with 12 people?

And this is where we play:

What was Jeff’s response????

Go for it.

Last week I got a response to an indeed post looking for a server job.

The experience was okay. Not great. But good enough to call the kid in.

His interview was today.

He arrived on time.

He looked familiar when I saw him but he spoke first.

You look familiar.

As do you.

Did you used to work at __?

Why yes. Yes I did.

He explains how I know him.

Ahhhh.

Why yes. Yes I know you.

First. For the life of me I’ve never figured out how to say I’m not hiring you, but I don’t want to waste your time in the first 30 seconds.

I’ve pulled questions out of my ass so many times just to go through the motions.

Today was that day.

Back story.

In a century long long ago I worked at a pub.

And we were coming back from a national emergency and I hired a guy to food run. But. I needed a doorman so I asked him to do that instead. And he had a friend so within 24 hours I had two guys as doormen.

Then.

About 48 hours later, I’m at home when I get call. Seems one of the doormen has passed out in the office.
Aka overdosed.

The paramedics are called. Narcan is administered.

The kid lives.

The OD kid comes in the next day to tell me he’s good to go. I tell both of the new doormen to figure their lives out then reach out to me.

My applicant today was one of the two guys.

I knew immediately I wasn’t hiring him.

The interview took 30 minutes. He just kept asking questions.

I feel bad.

But also.

I know you.

I’m not hiring you.

Stupid questions 401. Graduate level.

I’ve gotten this question three or four times in the past month:

What’s a barstool?

When you make a reservation the system lists: dining room. Patio. Bar stool.

Maybe I should change the listing to just the bar?

But.

I’m amused by the people who call and don’t know what it means.

Yes.

It’s a barstool. At the bar. Next to other people.

Business is definitely increasing.

Twice as many phone calls today coming back from the weekend. The phone was ringing all afternoon.

40 more covers than last Wednesday.

The bar was also busy tonight. I asked the bartender tonight how her evening went.

She said great. I knew every single person at the bar tonight.

I too knew all but three or four people.

One couple arrived who didn’t have a reservation.

They’d been in over the weekend.

On their way out tonight they couldn’t say enough about how great the experience was. They praised the bartenders over and over.

They ended by saying how our service was better than a 5 star resort across town. I couldn’t say thank you enough. I told them I’d share their accolades with the team.

Another bar guest tonight caught me on his way out tonight.

Said his daughter had just called him very anxiously.

Said she was at work at a restaurant in a town 20 miles away or so.

Her GM had had to have emergency surgery and was going to be out for two weeks. She called because the night was dissolving into a shit show. (His word).

Nothing was going right because the manager was out.

He looked at me and said as soon as she told me this story I thought of you. You run such a tight ship. And I had no idea a GM’s role was so important. Clearly you do a lot. And it shows here. The service, the food, everything is so good here. And it’s really a testament to how good you are at your job.

I’m sure I was blushing when he finished. It was so sweet and kind.

And I truly appreciated his sentiment.

Yes our restaurant is great. But we do it as a team. It’s not on the back of anyone person. It’s all of us who do it.

Im really grateful to work where I work.

I’m grateful to have the team I have.

Most of them read this.

So thank you!

When we were in Florida we met in the hotel Tiki outdoor bar before we headed out.

It was a cute space.

There were about 20 people in the bar.

There were about 700 employees.

A man who looked like he was born when Eisenhower was in office.

A woman who had the energy of an upside down turtle.

A kid who we didn’t see do any work the two days we were there.

There were seriously about 10 more employees than guests.

There was no service bartender. They all came into the bar to make their own drinks. Everyone was in everyone else’s way.

They all took forever to make their drinks.

They were very NOT busy.

At one point my chef heard an employee say, I’d someone comes in tell them they can’t sit because we are short staffed.

They were not. They were only cocktailing. Hardly any food.

Over the two days it was insane the stuff we saw.

Two employees sitting at the bar bitching about the bar.

I was told I couldn’t get a beer because they didn’t have a glass.

I asked for a corona I got a Blue Moon.

I stood at the bar day two waited 15 minutes because they were all talking and couldn’t be bothered.

A girl chipped a glass. The piece of glass flew over a guests head. She put ice into the glas any way and serves a drink in it.

I could continue.

Adam had lunch with a friend today. He said the server approached the table with a stack of dirty dishes from another table.

This has led me to start putting together a list at work of things servers and bartenders should never do.

If any of my friends would like to share their stories, pet peeves or things they hate, feel free.

I’ll add them to the list.

Stories from McDonald’s.

The soda water saga continues.

Tonight on the way home I stopped for a soda water.

I order and am told it’s $1.08.

I approach the window.

I hand the lady my card.

She turns to process it, then comes back to the window.

She says, can I ask you a question? Do you order this anywhere wise?

Other restaurants or other McDonald’s?

Both?

I look to see if anyone is behind me. There is no one.

I say, funny you should ask.

It doesn’t matter the McDonald’s. It’s always a different price. .22. 1.08. 1.22. Or free. It’s always an adventure.

She says, I just wanted to make sure I wasn’t being an asshole for charging you.

I said no. The cup. The lid. The straw. You. The machine. There’s a cost associated with all of it. So I appreciate when it’s free. But I never expect it.

I tell her thank you for not charging me.

And.

Yesterday.

I went to get a soda.

The woman means to give it to me free but inadvertently charges me for the car behind me. She was getting a manager to process the refund and I told her just to tell the car I paid. It was 5 bucks and some change.

I’d never done that before.

I’d like to speak to the manager!!!

We open the restaurant every day we’re open at 5:00.

And on busy days we get several tables in the lobby at the same time. This continues every fifteen minutes until we get everyone in for the first turn.

We often tell people we’ll get them seated in just a few minutes and they can have a seat if they like.

And the people can start to pile up until we start seating the next time slot.

Sometimes, people get very, very, very angry if we seat someone before them, when they arrived first.

I’ve had people shout at me over this.

Fun fact:

When you made your reservation you gave us very pertinent information.

How many are in your party.

What time you want to be seated.

Where you’d like to be seated.

What kind of table you’d like.

So.

When we take someone in before you it might be that:

Their reservation was actually before your reservation.

They are two. Being seated at a 2-top.

That they are being seated in the bar.

That they are part of a larger group.

That they requested a booth, you requested a high top.

That it’s chef’s mom and she never has to wait.

There are a million reasons why they are getting seated first.

Patience. Is. A. Virtue.

I promise this blog won’t become just about my waiting tables job. But for the moment, it’s what’s happening.

And I’m fucking tired again tonight. I ran my ass off tonight, just so my trainer could make a shit load of money. Some how it’s a fucked up system but what can you do. The night started out a little less frustrating. I got to the restaurant about an hour early so that I could start to fill out this booklet that must be completed before I’m official. For a company that prides it’s self on it’s environmentalism, it sure as hell produces a lot of paperwork. So I used my little cheat-sheet and filled out about 1/2 of it while waiting for my shift to start.

And then it started.

And for as good as the waiter last night was. Tonight’s was awful. For the first two hours she drove me fucking bonkers. When a waiter is super busy it’s called being in “the weeds.” Don’t ask me why. I’ve never been told.

Well for the first two hours my trainer was acting as though we were in over our heads and completely in the weeds. For the life of me I couldn’t get her to calm down. Eventually, I took her computer card (everything has to be entered under her number since she’s the one who is getting the money) and took over all the tables. I told her to stand back and just let me do my thing and help if I needed it.

I didn’t need it. I ran the whole section for the whole night. Not only that, at the end of the night she walked with 20% of her net sales, after tipping out the bartender, busser, food runner, and me. That’s right and with the amount of selling I did tonight she’s well on her way to paying rent. I didn’t learn a lot tonight, but I realized I’m back in the groove of this and that I CAN do it.

As they say it’s just like riding a bike.

As for my training.  Seems the manager was even more impressed tonight.  So I get to cut another day off the total and will finish after tomorrow night’s shift…if I pass the test.  Of course this makes me nervous because I haven’t taken a test since 1989.  I’ll of course report in and let you know how it all goes tomorrow.

And I’ll end on things that piss me off.

I don’t understand people who find it a surprise they have to pay.

Tonight I waited on a table of 6 college age students. After the meal, I dropped off their check so they could pay.

And I waited, and I waited for them to put out their money or credit card. What I eventually found out was that one of them had to go and get money from the ATM. This took about 30 minutes. (Don’t ask me why, there are about 50 ATM’s within spitting distance of my restaurant.) The question is, who goes out to eat and doesn’t bring money? Or a credit card? Or an ATM card? You knew you were going to eat. You knew you’d have to pay. Get the fucking money before you eat.

And along the same thought.

Why do you have to wait till the cashier has finished ringing up your purchase and put it in a bag BEFORE you start searching through your over-sized purse to find your money? And for the record the purse is big enough to fit all of New Hampshire in it. Did it not occur to you, while you were waiting behind the 12 other people in line that you might have to pay for what you wanted? Did it not occur to you that you couldn’t have it for free. You want something from a store. You pick it out, go to the counter AND PAY for it. This is not a surprise. Your fucking around in the purse caused me to miss the 2:00 A.M. train home tonight, and forced me to wait 30 minutes for the next train. Causing me to not get home till almost 3:15. In the fucking morning. Would they have really convicted me if I had slapped you right there in the line?

I’m curious.