I’d like to speak to the manager!!!

The patriarchy is alive and well and living in the restaurant business.

I’ve known this since before I was born.

It plays out often in my current restaurant. Tonight was such a night.

I can’t speak to if it’s true once a person gets seated, but it is absofuckinglutely true at the host stand.

First, if I’m at the host stand helping, I’m the one who is addressed.

Always.

Regardless of whether I speak first, I am at the I-pad, or if I’m across the room.

Often if a guest is getting snippy with the 19 year old female host, their entire demeanor changes when I come around the corner and ask if I can help.

Our female hosts inside, get yelled at often because of a lack of parking, meanwhile, our 6’6”male host who works on the patio gets nothing but politeness, when people are trying to find parking.

I could go on. It’s all day. Everyday. And it pisses me off.

I can say, the cruelty directed at the hosts stopped when I started. Olivia, who worked with us last summer has commented on that saying that she has been yelled at less this summer. It also helps that the rules are followed by everyone now. No one gets special treatment.

About a week before I started last year, an older man called two hosts stupid bitches. They got chef and he came out and explained to the guy that he would not be seated until he apologized. He did. When I was told this last summer, I knew that he’d have my back when I stop that kind of behavior.

Meanwhile friends.

Check yourselves.

Do you address the man when a woman is clearly in charge?

Do you treat the 19 year old girl differently than the 57 year old man?

Do you act aggressively toward women when you’d never do that to a man?

Are you generally an asshole when there is no need to be…especially when you are interacting with a woman.

If so, take a deep breath and say to yourself, I am the problem here.

And fix it.

I’d like to speak to the manager!!!

I over slept today.

By 2 hours.

I knew this day would come. And today was the day.

We did go to be late last night. Or I should say early this morning.

Adam didn’t have to be at work at his normal time so he stayed up watching TV. He was asleep on the couch when I got home.

I did all of my Friday night chores. Yes, I have a different list for each day. I enjoy doing them. I like keeping our house nice and neat. And the cats like it that I scoop the litter every day.

I then made dinner. I used to eat dinner before my shift at work. But I found that scarfing food in 4 minutes, while people ask you questions was far from enjoyable. I eat when I get home now.

I make dinner, and I eat it at my computer in my office, which I’m actively using for the first time since we moved in 7 years ago. I enjoy it a lot. My dinner. My office. My computer.

I eat, and read the news, read reviews of the restaurant, etc.

Once I’m finished eating, I write whatever posts I’m writing for the night.

Last night I finished up around 2:00. Cleaned up my dinner dishes and joined Adam on the couch.

I watched TV and read Facebook.

It was about 3:30 or 4:00 when I woke him up to go to bed.

Our lights were out by 4:30.

Yes, this is late, but not really when the alarm won’t go off until 11:30.

Except.

I didn’t set my alarm last night.

We turned off the lights, and I was asleep in about 15 seconds. And it was a restful sleep. And I didn’t wake up all night.

And I was still sleeping when Adam called. He was concerned as I didn’t call him on my way to work. I dial his number when I’m leaving the house. Sometimes we talk. Often he sends me to voicemail because he can’t talk. He is at work after all.

I hear the phone ringing this morning, pick it up and wonder why the hell he is calling when he knows I like to sleep.

I look at the phone again and realize that I am seeing the time as well.

It’s 1:45. It’s 2 hours past alarm time. And I’m currently 45 minutes late for work.

Here’s the thing. I still have to shower, which will take 15 minutes.

And it’s a 45 minute drive to work the minute I start my car.

I got to work at 2:45. An hour forty-five late.

I did text my boss before I left to say I was on my way.

I got there and hit the ground running. Luckily messages were only 20. And I was able to get everything I HAVE to do before service starts.

However, Saturdays and Sundays are the days I get caught up from the week. So I did not get all any those things done today.

Chef only asked what happened. He laughed when I told him. He knows I like to sleep. He’s awake at 6:30 every morning, no matter his bedtime.

I’m a sleeper. I could and would sleep till 4:00 every day if I didn’t have responsibilities. During Covid shut down, I hardly ever got out of bed till 3:00.

Sleep truly is the most glorious thing in the world.

I like to think that when I die, it will be like sleep forever.

At least I hope so.

I’d like to speak to the manager!!!

We had a couple at the bar tonight that were a bit much. 

You could tell by the way he took over three seats who they were. 

They scolded the bartender when she cleared their silver between courses because they were enviro people. 

I saw them get up at the end of the meal and thanked them for coming in. 

Imagine my surprise when I was standing at the wait station and the woman popped up beside me.  Straight out of some weird movie edited to scare you. 

She says, are you the manager?

I say that I am. 

She says, I just wanted to let you know that the food here is amazing.

I thank her…she continues.

But I did feel neglected by the service. 

Uh. Oh.  Here we go. 

She continues, that she felt like they didn’t get the attention that they needed. 

I thank her for the comment and say that I will speak with the staff at the end of the shift.

She then says, And I should know I used to be a server, throwing her hand above her head like she’s carrying a tray. 

I say excuse me…

And she repeats herself, once again throwing her hand above her head likes she’s carrying a tray.

I stand there looking at her as she walks away.

And with all people who tell me they used to be in the business when they complain I looked up their check in the POS.  They tipped $24 on $189. 

There is no fucking way you paid your bills with a serving job.  If you had you’d never tip that little on a check regardless of the service.  I’ve had to get up and get my own soda refill and still tipped 30%.  And if you’d actually been a server you might have some empathy and patience with a team who are working their asses off.

And I’ll end by saying, you get what you give.  When I checked in with my bartenders to see what their experience with you was, they said they gave you the service you wanted.  Including putting your silver back on the counter after having removed it. 

PS.  For all of their faults, we have an amazing bar team.  People fight to get seats at our bar.  So I have to wonder what the issue was tonight.  You perhaps? 

I’d like to speak to the manager!!!

It rained tonight.  Actually it stormed. 

Think summer afternoon in the south.  Torrential rain.  Thunder.  Lightening.  Wind.  Hail in some places in the state.

A good ole southern thunderstorm. 

We don’t get them here often. 

We get nor’easters, but they just have wind and rain. 

We get hurricanes.  Once again, wind and rain. 

We get snowstorms, sometimes with thunder. 

But the storm we got today doesn’t happen much at all. 

The moral of the story is that I closed the patio.  By 2:00, the staff had been called.  Substitutions had been made.  Tables had been moved inside when we could, and cancelled when we couldn’t.

I moved about 30% of the tables inside today.  The rest got called.  Hi this is Jeff, calling from the restaurant.  You have a reservation for our patio tonight, unfortunately due to the thunderstorms forecasted for the afternoon, we are closing the patio.  We unfortunately (I’m aware every time I say, that I say unfortunately twice) don’t have a spot for you inside.  Would you like to reschedule for later in the weekend. 

Every time today they said no. 

Of the 10 or so reservations I had to cancel only one person was unreasonably upset. 

She responded by saying, BUT I MADE THIS RESERAVATION MONTHS AGO.   You can’t just cancel it. 

It was an 8 top.  There was absolutely nowhere to put an 8 top inside tonight.

I apologized again.

She once again, suggested the age of the reservation should change things. 

I wanted to say to her that I was no god and I could not control the weather. 

But I said, I’m sorry.  Reach out when you want to reschedule. 

At 4:45 as we were opening, the dining room was stacked.  Every table had 2 turns on it.  Some had three.  The bar was crazy, with every stool down to the second with reservations. 

And then it started.

It’s 4:50, we’ve just sat our first three reservations when Chef appears.  Do you have room for 3 tonight.  Friends of his. 

The host and I confer.  Find them a spot. 

Then, the other host comes to me and says that Mr. Smith has asked her to ask me if I’m sure I don’t have room for them tonight.  He’s on the phone waiting for an answer. 

I find him a spot, by moving reservations to a tighter turn, knowing we’ll be screwed eventually. 

The Mr. and Mrs. Jones come in.  Can we squeeze them and their son in.  It’s 5:10.  I tell them I can get them seated but they have to eat fast.   I need the table back by 6:30.  They were grateful and slipped me a crisp $100 bill upon a pass through the dining room. 

Then I get a text from a government official wanting to know if I can get he and his four friends in.   Once again, I get to work and make the magic happen.  I find him a table. 

All in all it was 6 reservations I made from 4:45 to 5:30 squeezing people we knew in.  It actually worked out great.  We only sat one party late and they were an 8:00 at the bar. 

We did have one couple that showed up at 7:30 for their reservation which was scheduled at 8:30.  At the bar.  They were upset they couldn’t wait at the bar.  They were upset that they couldn’t get a drink while they waited.  And the husband did the thing where he talks about how stupid our rules are to his wife just loud enough for us to barely hear him but not loud enough to cross a line. 

When they came in I told them it would be 8:30 before I could get them seated.  We sat them at 8:32. 

It was good night.  But I’ll be happy to not have to deal with the rain tomorrow.  It’s easier to get everyone in when there are more tables to play with. 

I’d like to speak to the manager!!!

It’s 3:00 a.m.

I’ve been down a very exciting rabbit hole tonight. 

More on that later. 

Meanwhile, it’s way too late to post more than one of the 11 things I recorded on my sheet of paper tonight.

So I’ll do one very humorous post. 

I was on the door by myself tonight. 

This means that phone doesn’t get answered much.  I used to get very anxious, but now I just let it ring. 

Chef and I are talking.  Let it ring.

Adam and I are chatting on the phone.  Let it ring.

Getting coffee.  Let it ring.

So tonight around 5:30 I do pick up the phone.

And a woman says very politely that she is calling to let me know she found her corn.  She’d called earlier to let us know that we’d forgotten it and charged her anyway.  But it was in the bag after all. 

I start to say excuse me, but she interrupts and repeats her story. 

I start to say something else, and she says, that she just wanted to make sure we knew that she’d gotten her corn after all.

I thank her for letting us know, and hang up. 

We do have corn on the menu this week, but I have no idea what she was talking about. 

I’d like to speak to the manager!!!

Around 8:00 tonight a server comes to me to say that table G-8 would like to speak to a manager!!!

They are not pleased.  Not pleased at all. 

I get there, say hello and ask how I can help. 

They begin. 

They are not happy with the meal that they have been served. 

They ordered our 32 oz Waguy tomahawk ribeye.  They felt that they had been promised a meal for four and that it had not been delivered.  They were expecting two pounds of steak and that was NOT what they go. 

I’m not sure how to respond. 

But I say, I’m sorry, but the steak is 32 oz, with the bone, I’m not sure how much the bone weighs but it is a fair amount of steak. 

They insist that they were told it would be a 2 pound steak. 

I say well it is 32 oz. 

At which point the man says, well isn’t 32oz 2 pounds. 

I say that it is, but I have to admit that in my head I was thinking that it was 36 oz.  But I’m not wrong at all. 

The wife says, that they were expecting a feast for 4 and that’s not what they got.  They were expecting to take food home and they are not, which is surprising as she eats like a bird. 

The husband continues, they were not only unhappy with the size but felt that it had too much fat content.  He then points to a plate on the table with about 6 small pieces of fat they’ve cut from the steak.

I should point out that they finished the steak.  Completely.  Except for the small pieces of fat.

I look at the plate and think to myself, you need to grab a fork and eat that shit, it’s the best part.

 Instead I say, well, it is a ribeye, and a ribeye has a fair amount of fat content to it.  Also, it’s a Wagyu which multiplies the amount of fat content. 

He interrupts me to say that he understands all that but it was way too fatty and the quality was not good. 

At this point, I don’t know how I’m supposed to help him.  He ate the whole steak. 

I also know what’s coming and I’m going to say what I say every time.

He says, so I guess what I want to know at this point is how we are going to move forward?

Ahhh.  Here it comes. 

I say, I’m not sure what you are asking….

And he says, I want to know what you are going to do for me…

THERE IT IS!!!

I look at him and without a seconds thought, explain that I won’t be doing anything.  You’ve eaten the steak.  I’m sorry you weren’t happy with it, but we’ve served 100’s of these steaks, at least 10 tonight with no issue. 

He looks at me like I’ve called his first born something horrible and says you can’t be serious. 

I assure him I am. 

He then tells me I’m clueless. 

I’m not sure what this means, but I say, and I quote, “Sir, I have all the clues.  I’m not sure what you want me to do, but I’m not discounting the steak”. 

He then does the next best thing people do when they’ve spend money and don’t want to pay, he begins to tell me it’s not about the money. He has no problem spending money on something when there is quality involved. 

I think to myself, sir, my response is not about money for us either. 

The steak he bought is $165 with two sides.  I have had this steak.  It’s deliciousness on a board.  It’s wonderful.  We’ve served 100’s of these steaks without issue. 

He changes his tactic at this point deciding it’s about the service instead of the steak.

He had to wait for the wine he wanted to enjoy with his steak.  It didn’t arrive until after his steak.  He had other complaints but I stopped listening.

I finally say, Sir, I’m not sure what you are expecting but I’m not discounting the check.

He says, fine bring me the check and I’ll pay it. 

So I bring him the check, tell him to pay his server and leave. 

He told his server that I was rude and mean.  He wrote on his check that I was inappropriate. 

He left his server $20 on a $215 check.

I waited at the front door for them to leave but they left through the back door.  AFTER.  Sitting at the table for another 30 minutes holding hands and laughing. 

I don’t know what their game plan was, but we won’t comp things you’ve completely consumed.  Never.  It will NOT happen. 

I’d like to speak to the manager!!!

I’ve worked in a New England coastal setting for 9 years. 

9 years. 

So I kind of have a grasp on the fluctuation of the season.

Two weeks ago, I told chef that we should start to see a falloff in business.  Traditionally, the last two weeks of July and the first two weeks of August are the busiest.

Imagine my surprise, when that didn’t happen last week. 

He reminded me on Sunday that I might have lied to him. 

I knew that it was an anomaly and we’d definitely see a turn down this week. 

Imagine my surprise today when we had the 2^nd busiest Wednesday all summer, and one of the top 10 busiest days all summer.  There is no end in sight. 

This is awesome for the business. 

But mama is gettin’ tired and needs for things to slow down. 

Only 6 more Mondays to go till 2 days off again!!!

Id like to speak to the manager!!!

I go into the vestibule to make sure the front door is locked and I’m greeted by this.

I left him to his own devices.

I’m sure he got In under the door because of the rain.

He can’t get in to the restaurant.

If he does I’ll need a new job on Wednesday.

I’d like to speak to the manager!!!

He didn’t show.

No word from him since he said he’d be here today between 1 and 3.

Never mind.

I’d like to speak to the manager!!!

Update:

Some of you asked what Chef’s response was. I appreciated that he deferred to me. My decision.

It was his decision to tell the guy to call the restaurant to reach out to me.

So he has my back and I don’t doubt for a second he’ll support the outcome.

As for the outcome.

Stephanie, pointed out that I am a manager of second chances. And this is true.

My response:

Hi dude, Jeff here. You will need to meet with me and chat before we will make a reservation for you. I’m available at the restaurant between 1:30 and 3:00 tomorrow if you’d like to stop by. Thanks!

He said he’d be by tomorrow afternoon.

I am very doubtful that he will grovel. And if he doesn’t then I think he may be having dinner at Burger King tomorrow night.