I’d like to speak to the manager!!!

The gift that keeps on giving.

Sunday night around 6:50 the lobby was full of people.  We, meaning I, were in the beginning of seating the second turn.  There were about 10 people in the lobby, with more on the way.

I’m standing there, when a very nice-looking lady, and her friend appear from the dining room.  

She smiles at me and says hello.  

I say hello back.  

She says, “may I give you some advice?”

I have no idea what was coming, but okay.  Fire away.

And she does.  

She’s not actually giving advice.  She is working herself into a frenzy.  That builds and builds over the next four to five minutes until I ask her to leave the restaurant.  

It seems that she and her friend had ordered our dinner special.  And the server had failed to tell them the price.  

(I apologize.  I know where this is going.  I ask who their server is.  I try to tell her that it’s not our policy to do this.  I say I will speak to the server.  In fairness, the special she is referring to is a $140 9oz steak.  By all means the server should have told them.  By all means I will speak to the server.  By all means this will never happen again).  

She doesn’t hear me, want to hear me, or have a discussion.

She is shouting within a minute of the beginning of the conversation.  

How dare we charge her this much for a special.  She was expecting it to be $60 dollars.  Not $140. 

She turns around and addresses everyone in the lobby.  Don’t order the special if you don’t want to get taken advantage of.  The only way they can sell it is if they don’t tell anyone how much it is.  

She is now doing what I mentioned last week.  Not speaking for a result, just speaking so everyone can know her displeasure.  She is going person by person in the lobby telling them about how she was cheated.  

I finally tell her she needs to go.

This only makes her madder and she starts to speak louder.  

Once again, she doesn’t want a response.  She doesn’t want her money back.  She just wants everyone to listen to her yell.  

She leaves the lobby and heads outside.  She literally stops at every person she comes to and tells them how awful we were.  There is a line of about 15 people outside.  

I’m done at this point. 

I go outside and tell her that I’m going to have to ask her to leave the premises.  

She only talks louder.

And then.

She blew up social media.

And not just the usual Yelp and Facebook.  

She’s on private local Facebook pages, telling everyone how awful we are.

If she’d even paused for 2 seconds when this all started, I’d have discounted her check. 

If she’d been interested in a solution, I’d have found one.

Needless to say, the server got a stern talking to and it’s been announced at every pre-shift since that we are not that restaurant.

But once again.

She just wanted to hear herself yell.  And to make sure everyone else heard her yell as well.  

A friend of mine, shared one of her social media posts last night with me.  I followed it back to her page.  She has the same post on her own social media page.  The comments were delightful.  

“The Great Lost Bear has a great steak and good beer for a lot less”.  

“Call the attorney general and report deceptive business practices.”

“Unfortunately for him he doesn’t know who he is dealing with”.  “You got that right Jennie.”

“That’s INSANE ….Call the BBB or if you paid with a CC maybe dispute the bill..They have no idea who they’re messing with …Its on girl…I’m making flyers”

“Hopefully they go out of business and the owner goes bankrupt!!”

“Yay ____,  Jason said go to the Big Texan and get a 72oz. steak and get your moneys worth.”

Seriously.  

I’m going to say it again.  

What happened was absolutely wrong.  

WRONG.  

The server should have absolutely told the guest.

And.

Had the guest wanted a resolution, we’d have found one.  But alas that was not to be.

PS.  The steak is $140 for 9 oz.  It’s snow aged Japenese Wagyu.  It’s over $100 a pound for us just to buy it.  We don’t get even close to a reasonable profit on it.  We bring it in, because we are a steakhouse and our guests love it. We sell out, in a couple of days every time we bring it in.  And yes.  People are told the price. 

I’d like to speak to the manager!!!

It’s still only a few days past August.  

The remnants of Angry August still exist.  

I can’t remember if I’ve spoken about the 8th month being called Angry August. Every one calls it that, though.  

Tonight, I was on the patio and a woman I met this weekend, comes up with a friend.  

She says, I bet you are glad August is behind us. Angry August is the worst.

I say, ahhh. You must be in the business if you know that term. 

We chat.

The friend who is with her, is the man who bought her inn. She is no longer in the business.  

We all stand there and talk commiserating on how bad it actually is.  

How glad we are that things will slow down and become less “angry.”  

I excuse myself and head back inside.  

Angry August is a real thing. And there are still signs of its presence.  

The third table we sat tonight after opening, was a couple with a small child. They had made a reservation for 2 people. They can’t sit at their reserved table because it only has 2 chairs.  

We move them to a 4 top table.

A server takes them in. And reappears 45 seconds later to say they want to sit at a booth.  

I explain that it can’t happen.  

She goes away and returns 90 seconds later. They want to speak with me.  

I go to the table. And say, hello. May I help you?

The woman is in attack mode. 

She says that the server told them that they can’t sit at one of the booths because they are reserved. I concur that yes they are.  

She pushes back, that there was no option to pick a booth when the reservation was made.

I explain that we don’t let people choose their tables, but in this case, the requests had been made and have been granted.

She pushes back, well there was nowhere to put in a request.  

I assure her that there was.  

The husband says, I can’t believe you won’t let us move. It’s our anniversary.  

I apologize but again explain that the tables are reserved.

They both get huffy with me. I say I’m sorry. And leave.

May I point out at this time, that their reservation was made at 2:00 today. The reservations at those tables were planned out an hour before they booked.  

I don’t ever get into with a guest but we’d started service. The ball was in motion. There is a whole host of reasons, why things can’t change that are not visible to the naked eye.  

Three minutes later their server appears and wants to know if they can move outside.

Why yes. Yes they can.

And move they did.

It seems they only come to our restaurant on their anniversary according to their history. Which is great. But book ahead.

Now.  

Back to Angry August.

Around 6:30 I walk up to the host stand and there is a man there speaking with the host.

He is apologizing to her.  

I say nothing, I just listen.

He turns to me and says, I owe you an apology as well. I came in last week, got angry, tried to slam your front door and stormed out.  

I have no idea who this man is.

I ask him when this happened.

He was a week ago.

I assure him that I have no memory of it, and so it must not have been as bad as he thought.

We chat for a bit and I realize he’s the husband of the woman that I was speaking with on the patio that mentioned Angry August. Her husband was an angry person.

He keeps apologizing and finally leaves.

Then my host explains who he is.

Last week a man comes into the restaurant to make a reservation.

She asks for his phone number and he says he won’t give it to her. He’ll only give his name.

I’m standing there and explain that the only way we can make a reservation is with a phone number.

He starts shouting about not wanting to get text messages about his reservations. Works himself up and then storms out.  

I’d never have remembered this is she hadn’t told me.

All of this over text messages.  

The funny thing is, it’s really easy to turn off our text notifications. So easy. In fact in a worse case scenario, block the number.  

And this is what he yelled about last week.

And apologized for tonight.

It really was mild in comparison. 

I’d like to speak to the manager!!!

Today was our first shift back after the Labor Day weekend.  

The last time we did numbers comparable to tonight was the first week of June.  

It was quiet to say the least.  

And it was nice.  

There is not a person in my restaurant who doesn’t like to see big numbers.  All summer long, push, push, push.  

But I was very grateful when I saw the numbers tonight.

And I was very grateful when the last guests were gone by 9:30. 

And I was very grateful when I got into my car a little after 10 to head home.  

I’d like to speak to the manager!!!

It’s been more than 2 months since I switched from writing on my phone to a computer.  

First my laptop and now my very fast Mac.  

When I typed on my phone it was often in bed, on the couch, half asleep.  

It was impossible to edit, so I usually said fuck it and was embarrassed when I didn’t know the difference between there and their when I read the post over the next day.  

When I switched to the computer, first I was on the dining room table, but well over a month ago I switched to my office.  

And I realize something today.  

I was in the shower, this morning thinking that I wasn’t tired from not sleeping.  I was also not looking forward to sleeping for 12 hours tomorrow on my day off.  

And here’s what I’ve discovered.

For the first time, in decades I have a consistent schedule.

The alarm goes off at 11:30 a.m.  I snooze until 11:55.  

I get up shower, get dressed.

I’m in the car by 12:15.

I drive to work.

I spend from 1:03 to 4:00 doing admin work.

I spend from 4:00 to 4:50 setting up the restaurant, pre-shift, etc.

At 4:50 it’s showtime and I conduct service.  

Around 9:30 or so I sit at the chef’s table.  I sometimes, answer emails.  I sometimes just talk to chef.  I sometimes, text with my boyfriend.

Around 11:00 I count money, do the deposit, and wait for dish to finish up. 

I’m usually in my car around 11:45 headed home.

I get home at 12:30.

I treat the cats.  

Do my chores.  

Make dinner.  

I eat at my computer, while I read the news, etc.  

When I’m finished with dinner, I write, one, two, six posts.

I finish around 2:30.

I shower, go to bed.  

At this point, it’s the first time I actually look at social media all day.  From around 2:45 to 3:15 I look at Facebook.

And by 3:15, 3:30 the lights are off and I’m asleep.    

8 hours later the alarm goes off. 

Here’s the deal.  

It’s an actual 8 hours later that I wake up.  Every night the same.  It’s been almost 2 months since I didn’t get 8 hours in a night.  

I wake up, and I’m refreshed, not grumpy and ready for the day.  

Not tired.  

And I’ve stopped having anxiety about how much sleep I’m getting.  Anxiety about, when I’m going to have another 10 hours of sleep.  

I like this routine.  

I’d like to speak to the manager!!!

It was Monday.  

Mondays are the worst. 

I was hoping that the beginning of the end of our season would break the spell.  

It poured here today.  The patio was closed.  We could only be so busy with just the dining room open. 

We opened at 4:50 as always today.  

In walks the first couple.

I touch my I-pad and it won’t respond.  This isn’t surprising.  I have an entire post, in my head,  about how lame Resy is for the restaurant.  

I close the app and restart it.  

The screen is black.  

The couple standing in front of me is a 2-top.  They say that have a reservation, I seat them, making a note of their name so I can put them at the right table when the system comes back up.  

It’s only takes about 90 seconds for the system to start working again. 

However, 90 seconds is an eternity and I now have a line at the door. 

I get the next 2-top seated.

And then a group steps up to the host stand.

Hi, do you have reservation tonight?  

Yes, have a reservation for 6 at the bar.  

Insert screeching noise here.  

In the 14 months I’ve been manager, we’ve taken exactly two 6 top reservations at the bar. Both were in the last month.  Both were for regulars.  Both were in the 2^nd turn.  

I absolutely would not take 6 people at the bar in the first turn.  

I ask what the name on the reservation is and they tell me.  

Chef had actually pointed out that we had 2 reservations at the bar tonight, at the same time with the same last name.  One was a 2-top.  The other a 1-top.

This usually means they double booked or wanted a 3-top.  I moved them next to each other.

These are the people. 

I of course know the name and explain that the reservation was only for 3 people.

They all start talking and in all the chaos they explain that they made multiple reservations.  

I ask what the other names are and they tell me.

Only I can’t find it.

Another name.

Can’t find it.  

It’s approaching 5:00 and now I really do have a line at the door.  

Finally, they give me a name I find.  A 2-top at 5:15. At the bar.    

Another name.  I find it a 1-top at 5:00.  

Four reservations, for 6 people at the bar.  

So, I send someone in with the 1 top and the 2 top sitting together at the bar.  Seats 21, 22, 23.

I send someone else in with the 1-top.  Seat 1 at the bar.  

And I send someone else in with the final 2-top and they are going to 15 and 16.  

Chaos ensues because they are confused.  

One of them comes back to the host stand to explain that she doesn’t understand what is happening.

I explain that I have seated their reservations, and they have been shown to their seats.  She goes back in but the 6 of them are moving about, and no one is sitting down.  

I say excuse me to the line of folks at the door and go into the bar.  

I walk up to them and explain that three of them are sitting over there and 2 of them are here and one of them is over there.

They look at me like I’m stupid.  

Finally, a woman explains that they made the reservations thinking that if they just showed up at 5:00, we’d work it out.  

I explain that it’s not that simple.

She says but if we show up at 5:00, you should just be able to work it out.

She then says, that she tried to make a reservation for 6 but it wouldn’t let her.  

I explain that we don’t take reservations for 6 at the bar, and that if they’d put in 6 people as a request a pop up menu would have appeared saying that if you are 6 or more to call the restaurant and we would help you find a reservation.  

She keeps protesting and finally says, but we’ve been here several times this summer and it’s never been a problem.  

I ask her if she has come with 6 people, and she says no.

I also know that I’ve never seen any other them before.   The reservation history, says it’s all of their first times.  

I explain again that I can’t accommodate 6 people at the bar.  And that unfortunately I can’t seat them together.

She wants to know why.

This is where it gets tricky.

I’m not just being an asshole to be an asshole.

Here’s the thing about our bar.  

We reserve it.  Meaning all night people will be coming in with seats they are expecting to be able to sit in.  

If I seat 6:00 people at 5:00 they will not be up at 6:30, when the computer thought they would.  So I will NOT have a place for my five 6:30 reservations.  Six people at the bar will be there for 2+ hours and will probably not even be up for my 7:00 reservations.

AND.

The bar is the trickiest of the areas to plan out for the evening.

Why you ask?

Well, you don’t want to seat all the 5:00’s next to each other, because you end up with 6 people clumped together, and they don’t understand why they have to sit right next to each other.  

And.

We have regulars.  LOTS.  And lots of regulars.

They have specific seats.  Kristen is seats 9 and 10.  Martha is seats 11 and 12.  Jean is also seats 11 and 12 on a different day.  Brian is always, always, always seats 13 and 14.  Beth likes to be able to see the TV’s.  Marc and his husband like to see the kitchen.  PS.  Brian doesn’t like to be seated next to Martha when they are in at the same time.  11 and 12.  13 and 14.  So I am to move one of the couples.  

I also plan out the night so the end of night bar reservations are not seated next to each other.  They make friends and the next thing you know its 10:30 and all the 7:00’s are still here, having a great time, and I just want to go home.  

I explain an abbreviated version off all of this and she says, so I guess if you aren’t from here you are just screwed.  

I explain that all she had to do was call as Resy explained and that we’d have been happy to get them a table.  

At this point the man who is supposed to be sitting by himself starts to get loud.  The woman I’m talking to shuts him down and they all sit down.  

Unbeknownst to me, they are sharing appetizers 20 minutes later, with each other around the bar.  

They don’t say anything else to me, they haven’t left a bad review yet, and they all left separately and were gone by 6:30.

By the time this has been sorted out, it’s after 5:00, my line at the door has grown.  

Did I mention I’m the only host today.

I get all my 5:00’s and 5:15 set.  Take a few phone calls, just as the 5:30’s start to appear.

And suddenly a man appears at my right, saying hi, we are the 7-top that called and we are here for our reservation.

Hmm.  This is interesting as I didn’t take a call for a 7-top.  

He says yes, my wife called and left a message saying we were coming, we are a 7-top.  

I assure him that if he did not speak with someone that he does not in fact have a reservation.

He then explains that they do have a reservation.  For four people at 5:30. But they have arrived with seven.  He goes on to explain that his wife called and spoke with someone today about a 11 top and we had room, so logic has it that if we could’ve seated an 11 top, seven must be easy.  He says, so we are 7 for dinner.

I find the reservation for four.

Yes.  I remember this woman.  We had a very pleasant, very funny exchange on the phone.  

She called about an 11 top and I explained that we could accommodate the party, but we’d have to use our special pre-fixe menu.  To do this she’d need to email me, I would respond immediately and if they were good with everything, I could book the reservation.  

In the process of giving her my email address, she read it back to me, changing the name of the restaurant, to a very famous, truly impossible to get a reservation at restaurant with a similar name.

I laugh and explain that although very similar in name we are not an unfound kitchen.  

I then ask if she has ever been there.  She says no, but she’s tried for the past several years.  

I then say, that a friend won the lottery for reservations and invited us to join her and her wife and so we were lucky enough to go. 

I then say to her that I actually answered the phone several times when I first started using the other restaurant name instead of ours. 

We laugh and laugh, she hangs up.

She sends the email.  I send her the information back and I don’t hear from her again.

This is not surprising. 

The pre-fixe menu is wonderful.  And anyone who orders it will tell you it’s a site to behold.  But it’s not inexpensive.  

I’m sure if it were 50% less expensive everyone would do it.  

I go on about my day, until 5:30 when this woman’s husband is standing in front of me saying they booked a reservation.  

I explain that I spoke with his wife, I offered her a table for 11 and never heard back.

He says, yes, you could accommodate us.  We are 7 now, so it should be easy.  7 is less than 11.

I explain that the conversation was at 2:00.  It’s now 3.5 hours later.  We don’t hold tables just in case someone changes their mind.  That table was gone by 4:00.  

He then says, okay, how about you seat us in one of your private rooms.  

I try to explain, but he keeps interrupting say can you seat us in one of your private rooms.

I explain that those rooms are booked but he seems confused.  

He still doesn’t get it. 

He then says and I quote, “But we cancelled our reservation at the super fancy formal restaurant at an Inn across town, to come here.  What are we supposed to do now?  What am I supposed to tell the Smiths?”  

At this point his wife steps in, asks him to calm down and stands in front of me.  She is very kind, very pretty and I want to be her friend.  She calmly says, I understand what you are saying but is there anything you can do?

I explain that I can’t.  We are booked for anything over 4 tonight.  I booked the last large table around 5:00.  A walk in of people from the beach, who were going to their hotel to shower and would be back by 7:00.  

The husband interrupts and says why can’t you give us that table. 

And I have to explain that it’s now almost 5:45 and a 7-top cannot, sit, order, eat and drink and be out in an hour and 15 minutes.  It’s not possible.  

The wife continues to be kind and finally turns to the husband and says let’s go outside and figure something out.

They leave.  

Well sort of.

It’s pouring.  So, they stand with the front door open, where the breeze is negative 30 degrees tonight, and they discuss what they are going to tell the Smiths who cancelled their reservation to be here. 

They talk for at least 15 minutes.

Finally, the wife comes back to the desk.  Apologizes again.  Says that they are going to cancel their 4-top reservation.  And she’d appreciate if I didn’t charge them $25 per person, but would understand if I did.  

I tell her I won’t charge her and will take care of cancelling the reservation.  

She tells me she appreciates me, and leaves.  

It’s well past 5:45 when I realize John’s hasn’t come in for his 5:30 reservation.  He’s often a little late, but never this late.  I call and he answers and say that he forgot to cancel the reservation but he’s coming with his parents and grandparents. 

I say, huh?  

He said, yeah, you spoke with my mom today and made the reservation.

I said yes, for her and your grandparents.  She never mentioned you and your wife joining.

He says, we are here and we’ll figure something out.

They walk in about 5 minutes later and they are ALL apologetic about the confusion.

I too am apologetic, because they are the nicest people.

I explain that there is nothing I can do.  They discuss amongst themselves and decide that they’ll eat the way the reservations are.  Two at the bar.  Four at a table.  

I get them seated.

It’s 5:55.  

I turn around and 5 people are leaving.  

What the fuck?

It’s table 37.  

What the fuck.

Five tops don’t eat in 65 minutes.  

But they did.  And table 37 will hold 6 people.  And the reservation at 7:00 is for 4 people.  

I let them all know that if they can sit tight for about 6 minutes, I can get them seated together.

And by 6:05 they were seated and had a great time.

On their way out they couldn’t stop thanking me enough for working it out.  

I told the mom that I was just grateful she was nice.  

She put her hand on my arm and said I’m always nice.  And I bet that she actually is.  

Then she commented on how cold my arm was.  I put my hand on hers and she shrieked that they were COLD.  I said yes, I’ve been cold all night.  She replies, I would love to put them on my neck but I won’t. 

Trust me it was not creepy.  I’m sure it was only menopause.

It’s now 8:00.  

The rest of the night has gone better.

There was a message at 5:10 from the 7 top, saying they were on their way.  I probably won’t return the call on Wednesday.  

I’m officially glad I only have 4 more Mondays.  I don’t think I can take much more of this.  

I’d like to speak to the manager!!!

Today was the Sunday of Labor Day weekend.

Tomorrow is actually Labor Day.

It will be quiet night for us Monday.

As of right now, we have about half the covers scheduled for tomorrow that we did last Monday.

Still a respectful night, but much quieter than it’s been since mid-May.

It’s also going to rain all day tomorrow, and this will cause people who will only eat outside to stay away.

None of us are sad about this fact.

Tomorrow will be quiet.

We are looking forward to it.

As a thank you today, we fed the team tonight. We also let them drink.

Everyone was done and off the clock and Chef put out a spread of steak, salad, empanadas.

All delicious.

The team gathered around the bar and decompressed.

They might not even be aware of their expressions but as I looked around the room, I could see the sigh of relief from everyone that Labor Day was finally here.

We have the final 4 week count till October 10, when we start closing on Mondays again.

We made it. All in one piece. For the most part.

Mostly unscathed.

I’d like to speak to the manager!!!

I’m at the host stand around 8:00.

A server appears and says, may I call? (I’ll write about this term sometime).

I say of course.

She says, do you have time for a little story.

I say yes, and she begins.

She says that table 13 has been great and they’ve had a good time tonight.

They have finished and she swings by to drop the check.

She’s back few minutes later and picks up the check presenter, which has cash in it.

She says that she’ll be right back with their change.

The man at seat #1 tells her to keep the change that she’s been great. She deserves the extra because she’s been so wonderful.

It’s more than $100 on a $250 dollar check.

She explains that she said she was very appreciative, that It’s always nice to have her service recognized (she’s very good), and that she can truly use it.

She leaves the table and goes about her business.

Except a few minutes later the man at seat #1 calls her over and asks where his change is.

She’s confused and says as much.

He responds, oh I was just joking about keeping the change. It was a joke. I had no intention of leaving that much.

She stammers and stutters and says okay and goes and gets him his change.

She says, can you believe that someone would do that?

I can’t imagine how she felt in the moment. Embarrassed, like she was asking for money. Angry that anyone would think this is funny.

The worst part, is that she knew his friends who were seated in seats #3 and #4. She used to work with their daughter.

The part she doesn’t know is that they sat for three hours and caused her to miss a turn on the table.

She finishes the story.

We go on…

…

…

…

About 9:15, I’m in the kitchen doing something, when someone comes to find me saying there is a woman at the host stand looking for me.

Uh. Oh. I’m about to get yelled at for the third time tonight.

I enter the lobby, introduce myself to the lady and she says,

Hi. I don’t know if she told you, but we were seated at table 13

I think, ah. Table 13.

She then proceeds to tell me that his friend played a very rude joke on the server.

I say yes, I heard.

She shows me that she has money in her hand and asks if it would be okay to see their server.

I find the server and say, table 13 is back and would like to see you.

The server says, no fucking way. I have nothing to say to them that won’t get me fired.

I assure her she needs to go to the lobby, and she does.

The server finds me later and says that the woman was apologetic. Mortified was the word she used.

The server asked if the man knew how embarrassing and awful that was, and the woman replied, he does now.

Seems they left the restaurant, drove to an ATM, took out the money that the server had returned to the man, and brought it back to her.

It was the mother of the person she had worked with.

She apologizes a million times, then leaves.

It’s was very kind of them to do the right thing, but seriously, who would think that’s funny????

I’d like to speak to the manager!!!

I got a call from a person I know from the restaurant yesterday. I knew it was her when I picked up the phone from caller ID. We exchanged greetings and she asked if I had a table available tonight for 8.

It just so happened that I did have a table. It was not outside, but yes, I could get them in.

She is so appreciative and then says, we have a surprise for you.

I ask what it is, and she says I’ll have to wait till they come in, but that it was her husband’s idea. He saw the gift and knew they had to get it for me, based solely on the last conversation we had.

I thank her, and tell her that she does not need to do that, but I do appreciate it.

We hang up and I truly have no idea what it could be.

Fast forward to 5:00. I’m on the door and they come in and we all hug.

She has a paper bag in her hand, and says we have a surprise for you.

She asks again is I have any idea what it is. I assure her that I do not.

She hands me the bag saying, we remember you mentioning the last time that you were in, that you and Adam go to Boston to see shows. The present was a silent auction for a fundraiser for our daughter’s school. My husband saw it and said we have to get this for Jeff and Adam.

I open the bag and it’s filled with stuff. A coffee cup, magnets, snacks and a voucher.

A voucher for 2 tickets to Kinky Boots and North Shore Music Theater.

And the best part was that they made sure the tickets were on a Tuesday before they bid because they know I’m only off on Tuesdays.

It was so kind of them.

I was almost moved to tears.

The backstory is their first time at the restaurant was about 3 minutes after I started. They called, I answered, I get them and their three girls in for dinner.

This happened a few more times over the summer and last fall and winner.

We have become friendly and about six weeks ago; they showed up without a reservation on their anniversary. I was able to get them a great table and I still had hosts at that time, so I was able to bring them over Prosecco and dessert after their meal. We got to visit a while and we shared stories about our lives.

I don’t remember talking of theater, but I must have. Because they are now standing in front of me with tickets to a show we have never seen at a theater we’ve never been two, two hours from our house.

Adam couldn’t believe it when I told him.

We both get the occasional gift at work, but this was better than even money, because someone took time and effort to think about something that we would both enjoy.

It was truly was special.

I’d like to speak to the manager!!!

When I started at my job, the front of house was the wild, wild, west.  

They had not had real structure in months.  

The person who’d been hired to be general manager, had quit unexpectedly.  This left Chef to do his job, my job, plus cook, and pay the bills, hire, and manager the whole team.  

I know how he is when he’s tired.  I can’t imagine what it was like before I started.  

My first day was on Wednesday, June 23.  

The first words out of his mouth to the staff was, “this is Jeff, go to him with your problems.”  

And it was true.  12 minutes into my first shift, I get called over to deal with a steak that had been sent back.  

Not his problem.  

Go ask Jeff was his mantra for the first several months.  

The staff now knows when to come to me.  

It wasn’t just the staff who’d needed structure.

The guests had had no structure either.  

In the first three days of being there, I pissed off everyone.  

I know you are a regular, I know that you know where your seats are at the bar, but I still need you to check in with me.  

I pissed off so many people. 

At the same time, though, I was creating stability.  I’m not sure the staff would have believed that then and I know the guests didn’t, but I was trying.  

Slowly things began to change.  The staff started to trust me.  All except a couple of people, who continued to push back and they ended up having a meeting with me in G-4.  That’s where I sit with people who are about to find out they are looking for new jobs. 

The guests were a little trickier.  I had only ever worked in one restaurant that took reservations and it was a very short stint.  I had a lot to learn.  A LOT to learn.  

It’s funny, about three minutes after I started on one of my first days a man walked in and started to head to the bar.  I stopped him and asked if he had a reservation.  He said no and started to walk on in.  I stopped him and explained that we had no room at the bar.

He looks at me and say, “you’re the guy that used to work at the restaurant across town.  I was going to spend a lot of money here but I guess I’m not now.”  He’s never been back.  

Piss people off I did, but we also came to an understanding.

And now going on 15 months later, for the most part our guests love me.  I know who the regulars are.  I know how to work magic and get people in.  

I know how to make people happy.  

We were busy tonight.  I stopped taking reservations at 3:00. 

We didn’t answer the phone tonight.  

And we managed to get in, every regular that showed up without a reservation tonight.  

All of them.  

And they were all so appreciative.  So grateful. 

I was on the patio tonight and a man comes up to me and says, “is this your restaurant?”  

I explain that I don’t own the restaurant but I am the general manager.

He says, “you should be very proud of what you’ve accomplished here.  I’ve worked in the business consulting on restaurants for years, opening too many to count and what you have here is magical.”  

I always say thank you.  But I also say, that it’s not really me.  It’s the chef and the team that do all the work.  I just make sure people show up to do the work and they do and they do it well and they make my job easy.”

He wouldn’t hear of it though.  He said, “you may say that, but I have seen good and I’ve seen great and this is great.  And a lot of that is on you.”  

We talked for about 6 or 7 minutes until someone came to say Chef needed me.  

Last night I was talking to 2 real regulars who stopped me to say hello.  One of them thanked me for getting them in and then told me they really appreciated the changes I had made.  They could see a difference in the reservations, in the ability to get in, the ability to get a phone call returned and a huge difference in the service.  As always, I explained that it had very little to do with me but I thanked them for the compliment.  

I am telling this story, because sometimes I forget and get beaten down by the day-to-day operations and forget that I’m pretty good at my job.  I always say that I’ll never be the best general manager, but I’m sure as fuck not the worst.  

I am very aware of my limitations.  I’m very aware of the things that I struggle with.  I’m very aware of the things that I wish I was better at.  

But I also know what I’m good at.  

I’ll finish by saying that this week we had a 9 top reservation.  It was a surprise 30^th birthday celebration.  I worked with the woman hosting the event over the course of the last month.  The event was for her son.  

When we reserve a table for more than 8 people, we use a special pre-fixe menu.  I have to send all the information, along with pricing, and availability.  There were a ton of emails back and forth as we planned the event.  Even day of, as a few of the people had tested positive for COVID and couldn’t come forcing their numbers to change.  

The day of the dinner, we get everyone seated a head of the guest of honor.  The son arrives thinking they have dinner reservations for 2.  

Here’s the catch.

I knew the birthday boy.  He worked for me in 2013 has a server.  He had just finished college and was embarking on his future.  He was not the best server, but what he lacked in skill he made up for in being a genuinely nice person.  He is still one of my favorite employees.  

When he arrived, he gave me a big hug.  I exclaimed that it was nice to see him, pretending that I had no idea he was coming in.  I picked up two menus and led them through the dining room.

The area where they were seated has a row of two tops against the wall, and 4 tables of 10 in private rooms.  I get them there and say you can take a pick of the two tops.  He starts to sit down and I say, I actually think you’d like this one better.  I lead him to  one of the large rooms and everyone yells surprise and he tears up and gets emotional. 

He joins his friends and eats dinner.  

At the end of the meal, I make point of saying goodbye.  He is about to leave and gives me a big hug and thanks me for everything.  His mom gives me a bigger hug and thanks me even more. 

We stand and chat for about 15 minutes.  

And at one point, we are chatting about his time as an employee and I say that I have changed a great deal in the 9 years since he worked for me, and that I’m a much better manager.  He looks at me and says, I thought you were a great manager then.  And I appreciate all that you taught me that summer.  

I hugged him again.  And he went on his way.  

A lot of people who will read this post worked for me moons ago.  

Back in 1902, I was faking it till I made it.  

I appreciate their patience.  I appreciate their kindness.  I appreciate what they taught me.  

I have changed.  Mostly for the better.  

But sometime I have to remind myself that even when I’m struggling, I’m pretty good at my job.

And I’ll never be the worst fucking manager!!!

I’d like to speak to the manager!!!

The night was smooth.

Mostly.

Considering it was one of the top 10 busiest nights this season, I’ll take it.

We open the doors at 4:45 today.

A little earlier than usual, but people had been waiting since 4:30 to get in.

Also, we were seating a ridiculously large amount of people in the first 45 minutes. Maybe the most we’d seated at 5:00 all summer.

The earlier we start the smoother it goes.

By the time 5:00 rolled around we had already seated 3/4 of people. We slow down as we seat so that servers who have multiple 5:00 reservations, don’t get crushed.

This happened tonight. A server got a 4-top, and a 2-top and had another 2-top scheduled in her section. It’s 5:01. She needs to breath. She’s also in a section with booths and those seats are highly coveted.

Each booth seats 4 people and we often don’t seat couples there because we need the tables of 4. However, tonight there are deuces abounding. So there is one last 2-top to seat in the 5:00 seating at a booth.

It’s now 5:02. The man, who is supposed to go to the booth is getting antsy. Grumbling. Loud enough for us to hear, but not loud enough for me to say anything.

It’s now 5:06. And a 10 top walks in. They are taken straight in.

It’s their server’s first table and he has an 8-top not long behind them.

As soon as the 10-top goes in the man waiting marches up to the desk demanding to know why we sat them first. He says he doesn’t understand why he came early if he has to wait. It’s 5:07 at this point.

I am at the host stand and I say, because they are a 10 top and you are a 2-top and they are in a different section.

He grumbles about making sure he never comes back with just he and his wife. He’ll bring 8 friends next time.

There are currently about 8 or so people waiting to be seated in the lobby.

He continues to grumble.

Fun fact.

I don’t reward bad behavior.

This man was slated to go to a booth. Instead, I gave him a 2-top in a long row of 2-tops.

I sat the couple that was supposed to go the 2-top first in the booth and then sat him last at the 2-top.

He was seated at 5:10. Barely 10 minutes late.

The hosts said he was quite lovely when he left, suggesting that he was just hangry.