I’d like to speak to the manager!!!!

Hi all!!!

Thanks for all the insight into the ID question. 

The points of view were quite interesting.

First, the kid did drink in my establishment last night.  He had a Moscow Mule.  (Who knew a 19 year old even knew what that was).  He showed the server the ID.  And how do I know this?  Because I spoke to my staff about this at pre-shift today and his server from last night knew exactly how old he was. 

Second, it was not someone else’s ID.  Both ID’s had his name on them.  The real ID had his photo from when he was probably 15 and got the ID.  The fake ID was taken more recently, and was definitely him.  Two different birthdays though. 

It was a California ID and in CA, when the person is under 21 the ID is vertical.  When you renew you get a horizontal ID.  He had one of each. 

As for looking in his wallet:   It was not a wallet like mine, which is a George Constanza wallet. It had a couple of credit cards an ID and a fake ID. 

As for whether or not I remove it is stealing, I don’t know.  I’m not a police officer nor am I a lawyer.  I have friends who are both who read this, perhaps they’d like to weigh in.

Last night on my way home, I had decided to return it.  18 year old Jeff, getting in to bars at Eastern Kentucky University, appreciated the ID he purchased in NYC back in 1902. 

Many of you support my stance.

I did know that I wanted to read your responses before I made a final decision.

I got to work today and checked voicemails.  While I was checking the voicemails, he called.  I didn’t answer not to be difficult but as a practice I don’t answer any calls until I record the messages and sit down with coffee for the day at the chef’s table.

After I sat down, I pulled out my phone and read your responses.   

Two things stood out.

One of my friends said that 18 year old her would have been grateful, but the 44 year old her with a teenage son, thought differently.

This coupled with a post I read from another friend who said that two teenagers, who attended her son’s school, had been killed by  drunk drivers this week and my decision was made.

The kid is rich. 

He won’t have trouble getting another ID.  He was underage drinking last night with his mom present, so she’s not really the adult in the situation.

If I can stop him from killing someone for the next month while he waits for his new ID to come then so be it.

And if it is against the law, then I guess I’ll take my punishment.

Meanwhile, he never called back.  The ID is in my office.  His wallet is at the host stand waiting. 

I’d like to speak to the manager!!!

The weather here finally broke this week. 

Last week was hot and humid.  Think central Kentucky hot, with temps in the high 90’s and the only way the humidity could be higher was if it were actually raining.

Hot.  Muggy.  Sweltering. 

Oppressive to quote my friend Donna Jo. 

The a/c in our restaurant struggled all last week.  It is not meant to work as hard as it was, because temps aren’t supposed to be that hot here.

Today was the opposite. 

Today was one of those perfect days here.  The right temp all day.

And inside it was the perfect amount of cool. 

At least to me.

Table 37 was seated at 7:00 and the first thing they did was to complain about the temperature.  The women were cold. 

I moved the thermostat from 70* to 71*.  They were happy. 

And it stayed on 71* for about an hour, until I came in from outside at one point and it was HOT in the dinning room.  HOT. 

I was glad Jen was not working as she’d have been melting. 

So, I moved the thermostat from 71* to 70* and wouldn’t you know 90 seconds later the server comes and tells me the table 37 is cold again.

And I think to myself, do I turn the thermostat up for five people or leave it where it is for 102 people. 

I left it alone.

Sometimes my comfort trumps everyone else’s comfort. 

I’d like to speak to the manager!!!

One of our last reservations tonight was a table of young people, I’d guess 17, 18, 19, and they were seated at the chef’s table.  They were very nicely behaved and ordered well.  Mom did arrive just after entrees were delivered and stayed and paid the check. 

One of the kids ordered a drink from the bar.  I didn’t ask but I certainly hope that the server carded him.

They were very pleasant, stayed far longer than I thought they would, as they were the second to last table to leave for the evening.

I thanked them as they were leaving, and went back to my laptop.

Fast forward 90 minutes and I’m closing up the restaurant.  I go into the lobby to plug the IPad in to charge overnight and I see a wallet on the host stand.  No one had mentioned finding a wallet, but they left it where they were supposed to. 

I open the wallet and it belongs to the young person who made the reservation for tonight for the 4 top.  I know this because his ID is front and center like it would be in most wallets.  

I don’t know why I checked the wallet, but I looked in one of the pockets and what would you know it was another ID. 

The first ID which was a photo of him said he’d turn 21 in 2024. 

The second ID said he was 22 and was born in 2000. 

I thought to myself hmmm…..

Do I keep the fake ID?  Or do I return it to the wallet and say nothing?

19 year old Jeff would have been very happy to have the ID returned to him. 

Rule following, 57 year old Jeff said to keep the ID and tell him to be more careful next time. 

WWJD? 

I put the ID back.  But he won’t be able to get the wallet until I get there tomorrow. 

So, here is my question:

What would you do? 

I’d like to speak to the manager!!!

It’s late.  2:24 a.m. to be exact.

But this story needs to be told.

Tonight at 6:00 a 4 top walks in.  2 of them are people I don’t know.  2 of them are people are regulars and most often sit at the bar.

I panic.  They don’t have a reservation.  The woman of the couple, who sits at the bar, sees my panic and says, we are with our friends.  The reservation is in their name.

I make a show of wiping my brow and saying, thank god, because the bar is booked tonight and I didn’t want to disappoint you.

I look at their reservation and ask if they’d like to sit at the chef’s table.

The woman I know is super excited.  I get them all seated and the night goes on as planned.

They take forever.  I don’t care.  There is no turn on the table, and they are so sweet. 

At long last they come out and the woman I don’t know enters the lobby first.

I ask her how the meal was, and she exclaims that it was perfect.

Then she says, do you know why we are here?

And I say no why?

And she says because my husband and I got married on the same day, of the same month, of the same year that our friends got married.

I’m blown away by this.

The woman I do know is standing at the host stand now and says yes.  61 years ago today, we both married the man of our dreams. 

I make a comment, that after 61 years that she still seems to like her husband.  She then explains that they have been together since she was 13 and he was 15.  61 years married.

And I can’t help but smile.

They are so sweet.  And lovely.  And have dinner with us at least once a week. 

And I love them now more than ever. 

Although she did let me know they are traveling next week and won’t be back for two weeks.

I aspire to be them. 

I’d like to speak to the manager!!!

Sometimes what I witness at work makes me sad.  And angry. 

Tonight a very elderly woman comes out of the dining room.  I ask her how her meal was and she says that it was wonderful.

She says that she seems to have lost her husband but that she is going to the restroom.  She is concerned because she is carrying her left overs. 

I tell her that I will watch over them while she goes to the restroom.

They are sitting on the counter and a man walks out and asks if I’ve seen his wife.  I say that she is in the restroom.  He says to tell her he is in the car.  I ask if he’d like to take her left overs, and he says, fuck no.  Then he repeats himself and leaves.

And I think to myself.  What a horrible man. 

On Monday, I return a voicemail and a woman picks up.  She is looking for a 6:30 reservation for 2 people in the dining room.  I tell her that I can’t do 6:30 but that I can do 7:00.  I hear her ask her husband and he says something and she says, please, let’s go, we’ve been trying to go for three weeks.  I can’t understand what he says, but she is pleading with him to make 7:00 work.  She asks at least three times and then finally says, I’m sorry 7:00 won’t work. 

I want to reach through the phone and punch him.

Last summer, I hit play on the answering machine and discover not a message but an argument.  I can only hear one side of the conversation, but lest we think men are the only assholes, the woman was horrible. 

She called the man on the other side of the phone about a million different things, with the word fucking preceding most of them. 

I stopped listening at 10 minutes.

I recorded about 6 minutes of it, before I deleted the message.

But seriously, be nice to your people-people. 

Tonight during service, I hear a dozen voicemails being left but at one point I hear someone say that they need to cancel tonight, but I didn’t get their name or time of their reservation.

I had a server who was a little quiet tonight and I ask her to just listen to the messages, to find the name on the cancellation.

She is in the office for a million years and comes out and tells me who cancelled.

She is standing by the host stand an hour or so later and says, oh my god. The messages have so much unneeded information. I can’t imagine how long it takes to listen and write them all down.

And it’s true. A typical voice mail from today:

Hi, this is Bill Smith, I was in the local men’s clothing store and the lady who works there said that I would be missing the meal of a lifetime if I didn’t try your restaurant. We are visiting from New York and we know steakhouses, so if your restaurant is really that good then we of course have to try it. We’ll be staying at the All American resort while we are in town and they have a shuttle that can bring us to the restaurant. There will be four of us, my wife, and my son and his girlfriend who is visiting from San Diego. She flew in today. We need to eat early as she will tired So we will want a reservation for tonight for 4 of us at 6:30. Also, the lady at the clothing store said we should ask for the cow room. It’s the room with the barn doors, she said it’s the best table in the restaurant. Of course if that won’t work, there are high tops in front of the kitchen that are supposed to be quite nice. We wouldn’t mind sitting there, but if there are stools at the high tops, we can’t sit there if the stools don’t have backs as my wife has a running injury, from the New York City Marathon last year. It was her 17th marathon and I’m so proud of her. The woman also said that we should come early and have drinks on the patio because that is lovely as well. So we’ll be arriving around 6:00 and as I said, we’d like a table at 6:30. My phone number is 986-6789. Thanks!

This is not an exaggeration. Every. Fucking. Voicemail is 6 years long. And fun fact. Bill didn’t leave his area code. 50% of the people who call don’t leave their area code. I know this because caller ID is a godsend.

But check it out. If I had listened to the whole message, it’s at least 60 seconds in to get to the important stuff. So I get the name, I pull the phone number from call ID and hit erase. I have no idea when I call what the guest is looking for.

I’d like to speak to the manager!!!

Remember Nancy from yesterday.

There were three messages from her today when I got to work. Generic messages. Please call Nancy Smith at 555.555.5555.

I add the message to my list.

Of course when I called her back she didn’t answer and I left my standard no detail voice mail.

This is Jeff calling from the restaurant; you can reach us back at 555.555.5555.

She continued to call back throughout the afternoon, but I had a million and two calls to return and didn’t answer.

When I was finally through all the messages, I check the machine, record all the new messages and start over.

Nancy’s message this afternoon was: Hi this is Nancy, I’m trying to make a reservation for tonight can someone call me back?

I knew what she was up to, but maybe I was wrong.

I return the messages as they are written down.

I get to Nancy. I dial, she answers, and I say, hi this is Jeff, I’m calling from the restaurant. You needed to make a reservation for tonight, and she said, OH. NO. NOT TONIGHT. I JUST SAID THAT SO YOU’D CALL ME BACK TODAY.

And wouldn’t you know, before I could say a word the call dropped. And it wasn’t even my fault.

And I didn’t answer a single call from her the rest of the day.

And I’m not sure I’ll answer the calls she makes tomorrow.

And while we are on the subject of phone calls.

I had about six messages from John looking for a reservation for tonight.

He was my first call today.

I dial, he answers and I say, Hi this is Jeff calling from the restaurant, and he says, well that took long enough. I say, you wanted a reservation for tonight. He is angry and says something to the effect that if I can’t return calls in a more timely fashion then blah, blah, blah. I breathe and think about my server from Wednesday and say, sir I had 87 phone calls to return and I’m getting to them as fast as I can.

He replies and says, that sounds like your problem not mine.

He says, we’ve found some place else to eat.

I say that I’m glad that he’s found a place to eat that’s not at my restaurant.

I’m not sure he caught the implication. And I remember that I didn’t deny it when I said to my server, yes, sometime I am rude and arrogant.

He grunts and I hang up.

The first fucking call of the day.

My 2nd call was to Adam just to get a verbal hug.

Then I turned back to my list and made call number 3.

I’d like to speak to the manager!!!

Oh, where to start again.  I have 13 things on my list and the one I’m going to write about isn’t even on it. 

I wrote on Wednesday, about how I might not be as understanding with guests as I should be.  It’s not on purpose, but sometimes I just can’t.

So, it’s never a surprise when I bet a bad review or a bad survey.  I’m prepared for it.  I know its coming. 

But imagine my surprise when I logged into Resy tonight to check survey results and I see this:

Please provide feedback on your experience.

The food was good and our waiter excellent. The front of house manager is rude, intolerant of requests, unaccommodating and frankly, just plain ignorant. He refused a very reasonable request to seat our together despite there being ample space. His demeanour , attitude and deliberate unhelpfulness need to be addressed.  (They typos are his not mine). 

And:

Is there anything we can change to make you dine with us more frequently?

Yes, your front of house manager !

WOW!!!

It took me a good minute to figure out who it was.  And then I pieced together the issue.

We had three tables check in at the same time on Wednesday night for their 7:00 reservations. 

Two of them had the same last name and I thought they might be together.

But when I brought this up to the six of them waiting inside, they clearly had no idea who the other group was.

Meanwhile, the 4 top and the other 6 top are waiting outside.  I see them chatting but it truly NEVER occurred to me that they were together.  I thought they were two groups waiting to be seated that were talking to each other. 

I get the 6 people waiting inside seated. 

Then I seat the other 6 top in our gallery. 

About 90 seconds later the woman who checked in with that party comes to me and says, that the table is big enough that the waiting party can sit with them.  I explain that I had a table for them and would be getting them seated now.  She says, you have it all mapped out then and I assure her that I did.

It never fucking occurred to me they were together, until the server comes to me at the end of the meal and said that the woman said, I don’t understand why we couldn’t sit together because the table is clearly big enough. 

I was not rude.  I was not short.  I was not anything other than efficient.

I had no idea they knew each other until the server said something.  The other party had the same last name, that’s who I thought they were paired with.  But no it was the Irish table, with the international number. 

How the fuck could I know this?

Yes, the table is big enough for you to sit together.

Fun fact, the decision on who goes where involves far more than whether you’ll fit. 

Also, you booked after I changed the message on our reservation system that said, do NOT make two reservations and expect to sit together.  We’ll honor the reservation but we will not move you to a common table. 

Also, if you’d told me you wanted 10 adults to sit together, I’d have had you email me and there would be an email chain following your requests for a table of 10.  This does not exist. 

And,

Also, let’s break this down:

The front of house manager is rude, (you didn’t speak with me, the woman from the other party spoke to me) intolerant of requests, (I said no, I would have said no if I’d known as well, but saying no doesn’t make me intolerant of requests), unaccommodating (unless I am mistaken, you were seated based on the reservation you made and seated on time I might add) and frankly, just plain ignorant. (This is the one that pisses me off.  How?  Why?  What do you know about me that makes me ignorant?  You don’t know me).   He refused a very reasonable request to seat our together despite there being ample space. (Was it reasonable?  Really?  You are mad as was everyone else this summer that you tried to skirt the system and didn’t get what you wanted), His demeanour , attitude and deliberate unhelpfulness need to be addressed.  (I can’t even with this shit.  I can’t.  I now know why they all seemed angry when they left and wouldn’t respond to my questions on how they enjoyed their meal).

I am angrier about this than I have been all summer.  The people who called me a fucking bad manager were bad but this is worse.

I am very tempted to reach out to the woman I spoke to about being moved together to explain why things went the way they did.  I probably won’t but I’d like to. 

And in what world does a person think someone needs to be fired, just because they were told no.

I’d like to speak to the manager!!!

Where does one start when it’s the first day of the week and there is so, so much to chat about? 

First the exodus has started. 

My staff is starting to leave to go back to college.  Thus I was on the door by myself tonight.  This is my life for the foreseeable future.  I love, love, love being the face of the restaurant, but it’s very hard to manage from the front door.  There is no way to know about pacing, how the kitchen is doing, who is in the weeds, who’s on their cell phone, who is standing around doing nothing.  And every time I walked away tonight, I came back to find people pacing in the lobby. 

The other problem with being on the door by myself is that I can’t answer the phone.  The phone was ringing when I got to work today.  It was still ringing at 10:30.  It never stops.  At the beginning of the summer it caused me such anxiety.  Not so much anymore.  I answer when I can; I hit silence when I can’t.  I try to answer when it’s a name I recognize on the reservation list. 

Nancy left a message today before I got to work.  I returned her call during my message time.  She did not take my call.  I think I saw 15 or so calls from her tonight, all for a reservation two weeks from now.  I’m tempted to tell her we are booked when I do call her back. 

I had a phone call from the local company whose employees don’t tip more than 10% tonight.  I told them we were booked.  This time of year, I can fill the table three times over.  Protecting our staff is as important as anything. 

I suspect that I could have added 30 more covers tonight, if I’d had a co-host.  We’ll never know.  I do know that things behind me went smoothly, and sometimes smooth trumps revenue. 

I told a server tonight that once again I’d gotten a review (two in the last week) that said I was rude and arrogant. 

Without missing a beat she said, well are you?

How the fuck dare her?

I thought that but answered her— probably. 

The truth is I do have an air of arrogance (or confidence) that I’ve never had before. 

I work in a fucking amazing restaurant.  This is not my opinion.  I just say thank you as person after person after person after person leaves the restaurant telling us that we are the best restaurant they’ve eaten in for years.  They say that we serve better steaks than big restaurants that are known for their beef.  They say that our service is second to none.  Night after night after night the compliments flow. 

After almost 14 months, I believe it. 

So when someone dares say that we are bad, without evidence to back it up I take it personally.   I’m convinced 100% of the time that they’d be unhappy at a 5-star Michelin restaurant.   I don’t know if they are hangry?  Or if they are entitled?  Or if they are just unhappy?  But I take it personally. 

And in my confidence in the restaurant that I work at, I am not a pushover.  If you have a legitimate complaint then fuck year we are going to fix it.  But if you are unhappy about something out of our control then —  NO!

Tonight, we had the owners of other restaurants in our area in for dinner. 

A family of three, who own 2 restaurants up near where we live, she stopped on her way out to express her love.  She couldn’t stop saying how amazing the experience was. 

A couple who own a restaurant in the same town as our restaurant was in and they too, loved everything. 

I had the same conversation with both owners.

The chat turned to angry August, and they both said, that this year had been worse than ever, and that this year they were less tolerant than ever before.  To quote one, I have drawn a line in the sand, walk up to the line and you are fine.  Cross the line and we are done.  You can dine elsewhere. 

We are all out of fucks to give.

Come.  Have a great time.  Enjoy the experience.  But be kind.    And if you can’t be kind you don’t get to play with us. 

Which leads me to table G-9 tonight.

The server comes to me and says that table G-9 would like to speak with me.  They wouldn’t tell him what they wanted. 

This is tricky as I am on the door and can’t be gone for a long time.  I find a food runner to be a place holder. 

I go the table. 

The man stands up and asks if we can go outside, he is by an exit door.

UGH.  I don’t have time for this.

He starts.

His wife ordered the tuna and it arrived raw.  When it was recooked, it came back over done.   He then proceeds to tell me his steak is not good and then says, with a straight face:

What are you going to do for me?

Ugh.  I’ve been down this road before.  They are looking for a free meal.  No one.  I repeat no one says that unless they’ve played this game before.

I look back at his table.  His wife’s tuna has 2 bites left, and his steak has about ½ left.

Here’s the thing.  His steak was perfect.  I checked with the server and it was a t-bone, thicker than usual, cooked a perfect medium rare.  His wife’s tuna came out almost raw, because it’s supposed to come out rare.  It’s seared.  To cook it more is okay, but not what we recommend. 

I look at him and say your wife has eaten almost all of her tuna.  I’ll remove the steak but that’s the best I can do.  I don’t apologize.  I saw the tuna today as it was being prepped.  It was fucking beautiful.  A perfect shade of red.  That shit is meant to be eaten raw. 

I go back to the host stand. 

And back to seating. 

It’s approaching 7:00.  The lobby is getting busier. 

When who should appear?

Mr. unhappy himself.   

I brace myself for what is coming.  He tells me all the ways that we were bad.  The word he uses is lousy. His steak was lousy.  The tuna was lousy.  The rest of the food was lousy.  The cocktail he ordered was lousy.  The service was lousy.  And I was the lousiest of them all. 

I wait for him to finish, which takes a while.  I’m not one to be able to quote conversations verbatim which is why I take notes as soon as it’s over.  He says something that pisses me off and I calmly look at him and say,

Sir, you were looking for free food.  You picked the wrong restaurant and the wrong manager.  There was nothing wrong with your food or your drinks.  You are just mad that you have to pay for it. 

He starts to yell, and the lobby is watching in horror. 

He keeps on.  I finally tell him the conversation is over and he needs to go.  He then says my favorite:  I’m going to destroy you in online reviews. 

I say as I always do:  You do what you have to do.  We won’t be held hostage by the threat of a bad review.

He then asks my name, I reply, it’s JEFF.  J-E-F-F.  If you are going to mention me make sure you spell my name correctly.

He storms out.

I don’t have a second to breathe when a woman steps in front of me and without missing a beat, I say, welcome.  Do you have a reservation for tonight?

She smiles and asks me if I’m okay.  I assure her that  I am, and that I am sorry she had to witness the behavior.

The three groups behind her all say the same thing.

He was actually helpful as I sat all of these people late, and they were nice to me. 

Line in the sand.

He left the following review:  Start by firing the manager.  Then get a better chef, and then lowering the prices. 

It said everything I needed it to say to know I was right.  I’m just sad he didn’t use my name.

I should have been done for the night, but oh no tonight was a two-for. 

Around 7:50 I noticed a reservation on table 25 had disappeared.  I go looking….did they move outside, did I mark them as seated by mistake….

I find them.  They had cancelled their reservation. 

They cancelled at 7:50 for an 8:30 reservation.  

I get everyone seated for the night and then I do as I always do, I charge the people who cancelled after 2:00 p.m.  Tonight it was the five top at table #25.  $125.

I think nothing of it. 

Around 15 minutes later the phone rings and I don’t answer.  At this point we are in for the night, they can leave a message and I’ll call them back tomorrow. 

I hear the message.

Hi, this is Mary, blah, blah, blah.  I was charged, blah, blah, blah, I insist someone call me back tonight no matter what time as I need to get to the bottom of this. 

I laugh thinking that I won’t be calling her back tonight and I go back to waiting at the host stand for people to leave. 

About 6 minutes later a car pulls in and I say to the server standing next to me, I wonder what these people want.  It’s approaching 9:00. 

A woman walks in and starts.

Someone made a reservation in my name, I didn’t do it, but I cancelled it this afternoon and you charged me $125.

I listen and say, you made a reservation for 5 people today at 2:58. 

She insists that she didn’t.

I turn the I-pad around and show her that she did.

She changes her story and says that she was trying to make a reservation for Sunday, but she never actually booked, she was just looking at availability.

I turn the I-pad back around and say; you did indeed book at 2:58 for 5 people tonight.

Well I cancelled hours ago.

I turn the I-pad back around and say you cancelled at 7:50. 

She says, well I cancelled before the reservation.

And I say, you cancelled less than an hour before the reservation and I have spent the night telling people no when your table is empty.  Go look.  It’s empty. 

She gets louder and louder. 

I stay calm. 

She keeps repeating that she didn’t make the reservation and that she cancelled well before the actual time of the reservation.

 I interrupt her to point out a few things.

First, she booked a reservation through our system.  There are at least five or six steps including confirming that you understand that you will be charged if you fail to show for your reservation.  You have to give me your credit card information.  It’s not like you tossed your phone into your purse and accidently booked a reservation. 

Second, you knew you booked because you’d have gotten a text and an email confirmation.

You made a reservation, you got charged for not showing  and there is nothing I am going to do about it.

She changes tactics, and begins to tell me that she comes here all the time and that she sends people here all the time. 

TWO BIG POINTS TO MAKE:

First the machine doesn’t lie.  The tab I am on to show the time that youyou made the reservation and the time you cancelled it is the history tab.  It also shows all of your reservation history.  You’ve been here  a total of three times.  Once this year and twice last year. 

And the biggest point of all.

If you were indeed a regular, as you say, you’d have walked in and said hey Jeff I think there’s been a mistake.  And I would have said, Oh, no Mary what happened.

But you had no idea who I was, and I’d never seen you before.

I have missed 7 days of work in a year.  5 days with my gall bladder surgery in November and 2 days with COVID in February.  Those are not days you were here. 

If.  You.  Were.  A regular.  We would know each other.  You might not like me and god knows there are regulars who don’t like me, but we all know each other. 

She changes tactics once again and says to me; before I leave I want to ask you a question: 

Are you calling me a liar? 

Fuck.

I sidestep and say I’m not calling you anything I just know the reservation was made.

Are you calling me a liar?

I’m not saying that.

Are you calling me a liar?

I’m not saying that.

Fine, you’ve said everything I need to know. 

By this time she is shouting.

She storms out saying good luck with that.  Good luck with that. 

And I think to myself.  How much bourbon can I drink and legally drive home?

On a more positive note, I had a nice chat with wedding dad and wedding groom and they booked their rehearsal dinner for next October at my restaurant after dad apologized a million times for not understanding how restaurants work.

It was also cute because wedding groom had told dad we probably do about 40 people a night in our dining room, and that was why they didn’t understand the pricing. 

I explained that I seat that many people 15 minutes before we open in our dining room.  And that it’s about 5 times that number. 

8 more weeks till Indigenous People’s Day. 

Can every day be bring Jeff bourbon day?

I’d like to Speak to the manager!!!

Original post from a year ago!

Eating out rules: When making a reservation, children are people too. Don’t make a reservation for two adults then show up with six kids and be upset when I say we can’t accommodate you. You have an 8 top. The small four top in the middle of the restaurant is too small. PS. Babies count too. Unless you can put them under the table.