I’d like to speak to the manager!!!

Mondays are the fucking worst.

The.  Absolute.  Fucking.  Worst.

All the bad things happen on Monday. 

The rain happens on Monday.  The people who tell me to fuck off, do so on Monday.  All the people yell on Monday. 

Today was that day.

Let’s start with the weather.

Guess, who got a little bold today with the weather?

This guy.  Who didn’t close the fucking patio like his boyfriend did, because I was certain I could seat the first turn and have everyone gone by 7:00 when the rain started. 

BUT.  NO.

The fucking rain started at 6:00.  However, my host was paying attention as I told her to, and gave me 15 minutes lead way and this time we had a plan and it worked.  Everyone was led into their assigned tables.  They had their food soon after.  For the most part it was great.

A couple of questions? 

Why do people who are sitting in the rain, think they should have their food carried in for them.  Pick up the fucking plate.  Don’t make the staff carry it for you.

And if you know your kids have COVID, why would you be traveling in Maine and why would you have a reservation at a restaurant and why for the love of all things holy would you move inside when the weather turned bad?

It’s now 6:30.  My restaurant is full.  The few open tables I have are now occupied by rain tables.  It’s going to be tight the rest of the evening. 

In walks Mr. Ross.  He’s standing at my host stand and I’m trying to get things updated so I can get everyone seated.

Background on Mr. Ross.– He called 17 times yesterday.  Because he forgot to make a reservation for his 35^th wedding anniversary.  I called him back today around 2:45.  And I made a reservation for him.  2 people in our Gallery.  Which IS NOT the main dining room, but those tables are now taken up with people who made reservations 2 months ago or the people I moved in from the patio who made their reservations 2 months ago. 

Mr. Ross walks up to the podium and makes a stupid joke about the weather that I did not laugh at.  I don’t remember it but I remember thinking I don’t have time for this.

I’m going to stop here and say that I am tired.  I was tired all day.  It’s the end of my work week.  I was up to late last night.  I was up to early today.  I dealt with difficult people all afternoon. It just rained an hour early and I am cranky.  I’m very aware of this.  I very rarely am in a bad mood and not aware of it.  Years of therapy helps with this.  I was in such a mood this afternoon that at 3:00, I put down the phone, walked out to the patio and sat in the sunshine for thirty minutes to just have a little break from the chaos. 

Mr. Ross is seated.  In our Gallery. 

Fun fact about our Gallery.  It’s a beautiful space.  But we are having difficulty with the air conditioning keep up out there this summer because we are having unprecedented heat.  Like seriously.  Never before.  In the mid 90’s with 99.99% humidity.  It could only be more humid if it were raining. 

Also when the rain is incredibly hard, the gutter leaks along the two top tables.  This does not happen often and we know this so we move the tables and all is good. 

We had 2 top tables seated out there all night who had a wonderful time. 

Mr. Ross is seated. 

And 10 minutes later the server appears to tell me that Mr. Ross is unhappy.  He wants to be moved.

May I remind you that Mr. Ross booked his table at 2:45.  2.15 hours before our shift started.  Even on a normal day I’d have had no place to move him.

I tell the server that I don’t have another table for him.

I go back to trying to get things under control at the door.

About 4 minutes later Mr. Ross is standing in front of me, while I have a lobby full of people.  Seriously, there were easily 15 people waiting at the door at this time.

He demands that I move him to another table. 

I explain there is no other table.  He points out that there is an empty table in the dining room.  I don’t say this, but the table is for a friend of mine, who just got engaged and is coming in to celebrate.  I won’t give him that table. 

I repeat that I don’t have another table for him. 

He gets upset and says that this is poor customer service.

I stare at him, wondering exactly how I am supposed to fix the problem.

I also know that if I weren’t in a bad mood already, I might have been gentler, but seriously, you made you reservation at the last minute.  You’ve never been here before.  You’ll probably never be back and you are not even remotely being nice.

I tell him again there is nothing I can do for him.

He announces at this point that he is leaving and I quote, “WILL NEVER BE BACK!”

I say, we appreciate you coming in, thank you. 

Later I realize this was not the best response but I’m still trying to get through the rain reservations. 

He says, THANK YOU?  WE DIDN’T EVEN EAT.  YOU BETTER BELIEVE THAT I WILL TELL ALL OF MY FRIENDS NEVER TO COME HERE AND I WILL POST ON EVERY SOCIAL MEDIA SITE.”

I say to him the same thing I’ve said for years, YOU DO WHAT YOU NEED TO DO, BUT I WON”T BE HELD HOSTAGE BY YOUR THREATS.

He responds, WE WILL NEVER BE BACK!!!

An email to the restaurant info@ address:  We showed up, were seated at an exceptionally uncomfortable table (stuffy, noisy) and treated rudely by an arrogant manager when we asked to change tables.  We left and will not return. 

Trip advisor:  Uncomfortable and rude

We were seated at a very uncomfortable table, stuffy and noisy, and treated rudely by the front desk person when we asked to change tables. Any restaurant, particularly one that purports to belong to the “fine dining” category, should know better and treat its customers with respect. We will never return.

Yelp:  Uncomfortable table, stuffy and noisy.  We asked to change tables and were treated rudely by the front desk person in a display of arrogance.  No reason to ever return.

Google:  Uncomfortable, stuffy and noisy table. Rude treatment when we asked to change tables. Will never go there again and neither should you.

Facebook:  Uncomfortable table, stuffy and noisy. Rude treatment when we asked to change tables.

I love a man who keeps his promise.  I also love a man who has not heard of copy and paste.

It’s the second time I’ve been called rude and arrogant this week.  Remember the couple who brought their own wine in plastic cups this week. 

Trip Advisor:  Worst experience ever

I’ve never been treated so badly. We were really looking forward to trying this restaurant on our last night in town. The moment we walked in the front desk person who I believe is the owner was rude and dismissive to us. The attitude appears to permeate through the entire staff. Inattentive and rude is the best thing I can say about any of them. Will not return.

Yelp:  I would give this zero if I could. I’ve never been treated more rudely. Terrible food. Terrible service. The owner is an a$$ and cannot be believed to be a real business person. Abhorrent.

I have no idea how she knows the food and service are bad as she never made it into the restaurant.

The funniest part of the night, was as I said the lobby was full when this all went down. 

The ladies restroom door is in the lobby.  About 45 seconds after this all went down, a lady pops out of the restroom and says, SORRY ABOUT THE ASSHOLE, BUT WE WILL ALWAYS BE BACK.  YOU ALWAYS TREAT US SO WELL, AND YOU HANDLED THE RAIN AND WEATHER PERFECTLY.  I’M ALSO GOING TO SHARE THIS ON SOCIAL MEDIA.

The post on yelp above Mr. Ross’s.

Just when I thought I’d had the best meal at The Lost Fire, they do an even better job. Not only was the food incredible (grilled provolone with pesto, hot house tomatoes, burger, and pineapple carpaccio with ginger gelato), Dave at the bar was incredible as alway. The staff accommodated us due to the rain, and we dined at the beautiful bar. It was my husband’s birthday, and he had the best steak of his life. The staff is so friendly, and the food is amazing, you really can’t go wrong.

I just can’t any more.

I’ll finish by saying I had a 5 top show up tonight with 6 people.  I had nowhere to put them and told them so.

But they were so kind and apologetic that I asked them to step outside and give me a second.

And I found them a place to sit.

Later their server comes to let me know that they own a restaurant in the town next to ours.  And that the owner of the restaurant, saw the look on my face when I was told they had six and said oh no.  He has the August people’s face.

And they were not wrong. 

PS.  Chef got all the alerts that happen when something is posted on Social Media.  He didn’t even ask.  While we were chatting at the end of the night another one popped up and he said, seriously, this guy is crazy. 

I’d like to speak to the manager!!!

This really happened.

A memory from Social Media.

“Nothing like being in the middle of changing clothes when an naked old man decides it’s the right time to tell you how awful the restaurant you manage is.”

He looked like Mr Burns from The Simpsons.

I finally looked at him and said this is neither the time nor the place.

He looked shocked that I’d speak to him that way.

But he was crying completely fucking naked. No towel. Just an angry demeanor.

I’d like to speak to the manager!!!

Every night I carry around a piece of paper in my pocket, with my pen.  And I take notes.  Chef made fun of me when I first started, but it’s how I remember to do things, or correct things, or order things. 

However, as the restaurant has become more acclimated to my management, I write very little about the staff or to do these days.  In fact most everything I write down is about things to share with you. 

Most days I write two things about service and 17 for the post.  At the end of the night I separate them and I leave my to-do list on my computer and I put my post list in my pocket. 

The piece of paper, in the photo is my list….just from tonight. 

Every night there are way too many things to ever write about.   

And I save the papers, and compile them into a master list.  I have a word document that is about 15 pages long just from last summer and fall. 

The other photo is of the papers saved still waiting to be put into the master list.

I usually write about the things that annoyed me most, or that I feel I need to share. 

I NEVER sit down at the computer and go; I have no idea what to say tonight. 

I do know that creating this outlet has been a godsend. 

I haven’t seen my boyfriend since last Tuesday night when we went to bed.  He is gone when I wake up and he’s asleep when I come home. 

I can hear him snoring lightly as I type this. 

It’s not a situation we love.  In fact it’s probably the biggest stress in our life right now.  We aren’t fighting about money, we don’t fight about household chores, and we don’t fight about the cats, although I will take this opportunity to remind him that Doralee has a vet appointment at 10:00 on Wednesday. 

We don’t fight at all to be honest. 

We just miss each other.

The part that sucks is that we both LOVE where we work.  I’m so proud of the work he does at his restaurant and I love telling people at my restaurant, that he is the GM of the one of the best restaurants in the area.  I send people there all the time.  

I love my job.  In fact on Tuesday Adam said to me at one point during dinner that he was so grateful that I was finally happy with my work situation.  It’s been four years since I could say that. 

Unfortunately, it’s our reality and we get through it best we can.  One of the things he insisted we do this summer is keep busy on our days off.  This Tuesday is the first night we’ll have been home on our day off in two months.  We see plays, we go to dinner with friends, we go to Boston, we get feet facials–we do stuff.  And it’s been magical and so rewarding to look forward to these adventures as we call them.

I am very much looking forward to being home this weekend.  Tuesday.

We are going to have cocktails.

We are going to watch Wheel of Fortune and Jeopardy. 

I’m going to watch Keith Carson, deliver the weather.

We are finally going to watch the last episode of Ozark.

Adam will fall asleep on the couch, and I will try and catch up on the Rupaul’s Drag Race all-stars.  I know who won!

That was a long way of saying that when I do see my boyfriend, I try not to vent about work.  I try not to complain about the staff, I try not to complain about the guests, the long hours, the 9 more weeks I have to go until I get two days off.

I do that here.  He reads my posts every morning.  He rarely says anything about them except occasionally to say are you sure you should have written that. 

I know he reads them because he always hits the like button. 

He likes when they are short.  He’ll hate this post because it’s too long.  He says I think I’m writing for  Vanity Fair.  Some day!!!

The point is, thanking you for listening.  Thank you for responding.  Thank you to the silent readers who are out there and never hit like and never comment. 

You are helping me get through the summer and for that I am forever grateful.

Be well. 

PS. You have my list from tonight. Anyone want to guess what I was reminding myself to write about?

I’d like to speak to the manager!!!

A first tonight.

My host comes to me and says she found thin on the couch while straightening the pillows.

Wow.

Just say no.

I’d like to speak to the manager!!!

Two things I’ve discovered in the past week.

First I have no more fucks to give.

What does that mean?

We have amazing guests.  We have people who eat at our restaurant once a week, twice a week, three times a week.

They are wonderful, understanding and kind.

They are the people who pay our bills. 

Then we have people I call one and done. 

They are from North Dakota.  They come here on vacation.  They eat here once, because the owner of their air bnb told them to. 

But here’s the deal. 

They are the people who wouldn’t be pleased if we were a 5-star Michelin restaurant.  They can’t be pleased.  They want dinner for free.

They are the people who make our lives difficult. 

And I have no fucks to give these people.

So you don’t get to yell at me when you forget your credit card.  You don’t get to yell at me when I say you can’t bring your wine into the restaurant.  You don’t get to beat me up.  

PERIOD!!!

We are going to focus on pleasing the 99% of people who are awesome and you can go back to South Dakota and tell people how horrible we were and it doesn’t matter because none of them are coming to Maine anyway.

Meanwhile, I continue to have a million calls every day. 

I no longer listen to the messages. 

I listen long enough to get the name and number.

After that I don’t care. 

I don’t care that you eat here once a year.  I don’t care that you live on Marshall Point Road.  I don’t care that your grandmother is turning 86. I don’t care that you are friends with the barista at the coffee shop, where you mechanic gets his muffin. 

Name. 

Number.

I have to ask you about all the other information when I call anyway. 

Two.  New.  Things. 

I’d like to speak to the manager!!!

On my way home at night I often chat with friends. 

Last night was my AGM from my first GM job.  Tonight was my AGM from two jobs ago.  Both conversations were similar.  We were commiserating on the challenges of being in the hospitality business right now.  Challenges with staffing, co-workers and grumpy guests. 

Last night’s conversation turned to a conversation she had had with her current boss and she says to me, I was able to say the things I needed to  say to him because when I was young and green you taught me to fend for myself.  She then goes on to embarrass with compliments she was giving me on our time together. 

The truth is, she was my employee, then my AGM, then my friend.  And she taught me far more than she will ever know, but it felt nice to have someone tell me that I helped them in their growth.

Tonight, on the way home I am chatting and I tell my old AGM that she needs a mentor, someone who can help her with the difficult times and she says, I did have that but you moved on. 

Once again, I was overcome with embarrassment as she complimented me on the things that I had taught her as a manager, AGM and friend.  As I said about the first night’s compliment she will never know all the things she taught me. 

The one lesson, I taught both of them, and I’ve taught many people is to know your role. 

I’ve told the following story so many times I should get paid for it. 

Years ago, I taught lighting design at a performing arts high school.  It was a dream job and I loved everything about it.  For those of my friends in theater education, the system was set up so that I not only got paid for teaching, but every single design I created was considered above and beyond and I received additional pay.  30 years ago, it was a great salary. 

I had amazing students and they have far surpassed anything I thought they might do.  They are working across the country in theaters from Broadway to Vegas. 

However, in my tenure there, I had a student say to me one day that he was annoyed that all I did was stand around telling other people what to do.  He was implying I was too lazy to pull out a wrench and hang a light myself. 

I don’t remember my response the first time this was said to me, but it became a conversation I had with this student many times. 

He wasn’t wrong.  I did just stand around telling people what to do.  But it was not because I was lazy, but how do you explain that to a 15 year old.

So after the 12,656 time I told him that I was going to let him run the crew next time we had a load in. 

Fast forward and we are loading in a show at a union theater.  The great thing about the school that I worked at was they had an agreement with the local IATSE union, that for every union worker we hired, we had a student attached to them.  This way, the union was protected, but our students got to learn with the best of the best. 

So I turned the show over to my student. 

We arrive at 8:00, as all load-ins start at 8:00.  I give the plans to the student and tell him to go for it.  I have my wrench attached to my belt and I’m ready to hang lights for the morning. 

And off we go. 

All is well for about 30 minutes.  I’m hanging my electric but I look around and there members of the electric team waiting for direction.  Both students and union members.

I go back to work.  Around 9:00, there are still people waiting for direction but hey I’m just a grunt and I go back to work, all the while with one eye of the crew and the student who was in charge.  

Around 9:30, I approach the student and ask if everything is okay.  I can tell he’s struggling but is too proud to say so.  I explain that I am here to just hang lights but there are three guys standing over there who are making a lot of money an hour and for the last 90 minutes they haven’t done anything.

He finally admits that he doesn’t know what to do next and that clearly it’s a lot harder to keep things moving than he thought and that he finally understood that I was not just standing around. 

I gave him my wrench and we traded places. 

I took over just telling people what to do. 

My first AGM I found on a ladder loading wine into storage and I asked her what she was doing.  She said she was stocking wine.  And I said, if you are doing that, why are we paying the three people over there who are watching you stock wine?

My last AGM and I had a phone call a week ago and she was saying she was too busy running food and bussing tables to get some tasks done and I shared my lighting story with her.

The moral of the story is that a GM is a big picture person.  You have to see everything, and if you are focusing on the little picture, then the picture gets fuzzy. 

I am not too good to bus a table.  I am not too good to run drinks.  I’m not too good to run food.  But 99% of the time, I have three people standing around waiting for direction who can do the task at hand allowing me to move on to find the next task at hand. 

It makes me proud that both of these AGM friends are doing so well in their careers, as are my lighting friends. 

Now, hang three source fours on that batten and bus table 21 and can you run get ice for the bar. 

And thank you for filling my water cup. 

I’d like to speak to the manager!!!

We, and by we, I mean our staff, killed it tonight.  We broke all the records by a lot.   We fed more people than we ever thought possible, and we hit a revenue record that was not forecast for us, for the next three years. 

The best part of these facts though is that the evening was one of the smoothest ever. 

Food was spot on, only a couple of re-cooks.  Servers weren’t running around like crazy.  And the food running team and expo were better than I’ve ever seen them.  They thought we were slow tonight. 

Kudos, kudos, kudos to the whole staff.

I also had several people seek me out at the end of their meals to let me know how wonderful their experience was.  Most of them I knew, but one particular man sought me out on the patio after finishing his dinner inside.  I recognized him as having eaten here before, but I don’t know his name and we’ve only spoken briefly before. 

He came up to me, and complimented us on the beauty of our patio.  He continued saying that he and his family have been coming to the restaurant since it opened almost 4 years ago and he wanted me to know that the changes that I had brought to the restaurant, were much noticed and a great improvement.  Not that anything was bad before but that things had definitely improved since I became GM.  It felt nice to be recognized. 

I should add that I was on the patio because my host has said  to me, have you looked at the weather?  

FUCK YOU!  NO!  IT’S NOT GOING TO RAIN!

But of course I pull out my phone and what do I see a severe thunderstorm warning alert.  I look at the radar.  It’s now about 6:50 and according to the radar we have about 30 minutes to formulate a plan. 

Fuck.  Fuck.  Fuck.

We still have the entire second turn to seat and the place is packed. 

However, one should not panic in these moments and so I planted myself on the patio and formulated a plan.

First, it’s at the end of the first turn and the second turn doesn’t start till 7:00.  So I stop seating.  I tell everyone who approaches that we won’t be seating anyone else until we have the all clear that it’s not going to rain.  However, if it does rain it’s going to be quick and furious, meaning we’ll dry everything and seat people as soon as we can.  You might have to wait but we’ll make sure you have an awesome time in the end.  I also have the patio host clear all the clean tables so it won’t be a rush to do so, if it rains. 

Meanwhile, I have about 8 tables in the middle of their meals. 

All but two are eating their entrees.  I tell their servers to let them know that they should keep things moving as we are expecting storms.  The two tables that are waiting on food, I approach and point out the tables they are to move to should it rain.  The tables on dessert, I suggest that they get their desserts to go and enjoy them in their cars or at home. 

The night continues. 

It grows dark. 

According to the radar the line is moving toward us.  And it keeps coming.  And it keeps coming.  And as it moves closer, it moves north.  Around 7:45 it becomes apparent that there is not going to be any rain. 

Meanwhile, I have about 25 people waiting to be seated, all late for their reservations.  They have gotten drinks from the patio bartenders and none of them are upset at all. 

We get the tables reset and I seat people in the order they arrived. 

And by 7:45 everyone is seated and we are moving on with our night. 

It screwed the momentum and flat seating everyone bogged them down but they all got through it. 

And at 10:00 tonight I sat down at the chef’s table and opened my laptop and looked at revenue and all was good in the world. 

I’d like to speak to the manager!!!

Guess who is gun shy?

This guy!!!

There was a 60% chance for thunderstorms today, so I called the patio.  At 2:00. 

I texted my staff to say they had the night off.  I’d asked my host to come in early to make the phone calls that needed to be made.  It took her all afternoon but by 4:30 everyone had been called and we’d moved as many people inside that we could. 

I’m pretty sure we started the night off ahead of any numbers we’d done for just the inside dining room.  Ever.  In fact, we did 50 more covers tonight than on Monday and the patio was open on Monday. 

It was busy, for just the inside.  We had no availability for anything over 2 and the 2’s were contingent upon tables turning quickly.  For the most part, everything went great, but things started to bog down around 7:45.  The 6:30’s weren’t turning and of course everyone came in early for their 8:00 reservations.

It was especially tough because we had no room at the bar.   I’m sure the bar did more covers tonight than EVER!!!  By a lot.  On any given night the bar does about 40+ covers give or take a few. Sometimes more, sometimes less.  They did 59 tonight and they hustled to do it.  We were only behind seating people around 10 minutes and that was around 8:30. 

As I said at 7:45 things started to bog down.  There were people waiting in the lobby.  Some because they were 30 minutes early, some because we were running a few late. 

Suddenly, as it always happened, around 6 tables left at the same time.  I had a place for everyone waiting, including the 8:30 tables.  We just need to get them all bussed and set with place settings.

During this time a couple comes in for their 8:15 reservation.  I explain that it will be a few minutes before I can get them seated.  I say a few minutes, because if you are specific they will come back to see you in 90 seconds.  They ask if they can grab a drink at the bar, I explain the bar is booked but I’ll get them seated as soon as I can.  They say great, that they are going to wait in the parking lot.

I go back to work.  I’m at the door; my hosts are working on getting tables cleaned.

A little while later the hosts appear and we start getting people seated.  2 people at 35.  A 4 at table 21.  I send a server out to get the couple waiting in the parking lot.  He goes out, looks around and they are nowhere to be found.

I think to myself, maybe they left. 

I seat the table after them. 

We are now 15 minutes late for the parking lot people, but at this point it’s their fault not ours. 

I’m standing at the host stand when they walk back in.  I welcome them and say that we’d been looking for them.  At this point I notice that they are holding plastic cups, filled with red wine.

I think to myself.  Seriously, this again?

I tell them that they need to give the cups to me and immediately the woman starts to drink.  I stop her and say that if she continues, she will not be allowed in the restaurant.  She looks at her husband and he starts to drink his.

I stop them both and explain that if they continue that I will not seat them.

The woman looks outraged that I’d even dare questions them.  She says that they were just enjoying a glass of wine before dinner…in the parking lot. 

I’m about to have the most insane conversation ever.

I say to her, there is only one city I know of in the US where it’s legal to walk around with alcohol and this is definitely not New Orleans.  She interrupts me to say that it’s legal in Las Vegas.  I reply unless I made a seriously wrong turn this morning, this is neither New Orleans NOR Las Vegas and that it is indeed against the law to have an open container in Maine and its really illegal to bring alcohol into an establishment with a liquor license. 

Her husband looks at me and starts to take a drink.

I repeat my statement.  If you drink that I will not seat you.

Anyone want to guess what happened next?

Yeap, he takes a drink.

And I said, GREAT.  Why don’t you enjoy your wine in the parking lot because I’m not seating you for dinner.

At which point I think they think I’m kidding.  But I’m not having any of it.  I repeat that it’s against the law for them to have an open container anywhere and it’s against the law to bring alcohol into my establishment.  Now I’m asking you to leave. 

She gets loud. 

I stay calm but continue to explain that we are no longer having a discussion.  I’ve made my decision and now you must go.

Years ago at the Irish pub I managed I shooed a guy out by waving my arms and hands at him like you might do to herd a goat.  This was about a week after I started and the staff never let me forget it.

I make the gesture at them, shooing them out of the restaurant.

The woman is having no part of this.  They were just enjoying a glass of wine, etc etc. etc. 

I might add the lobby is full at this point.  The couple on the couch is ignoring us.  The couple standing next to them is full on engaged with the pre-dinner show. 

She continues to protest.  Her husband is clearly used to letting her fight the battle, as he just shows his anger but lets her do the talking.

I finally say, if you’d like I can call 911 and have the police come discuss with you the open container laws of our fair city, but it’s probably not going to go well.

She looks at me like I dare you, and I hand the cordless phone to my host and say, will you call 911.    

She does exactly as I intended her to do and dials 911 without hitting the button to open the line first.  She holds the phone up to her ear and the woman begins to shout about how inconsiderate and rude I am. 

I take the phone from the host and say, are you sure you want to go down this road….and they leave. 

The couple standing beside them looks at me and says what assholes!   Who brings in a plastic cup of wine into a fine dining establishment?

What’s funny as I thought about it later, a dive bar would be even more protective as they are watched more closely.  But seriously who does that?

Oh.  But the story doesn’t end there.

I was at the host stand tonight, when the reservation was made.  We have a super-duper high-end resort that called to make the reservation for the guests.  She explains that she started to make it earlier but the reservation was gone before she finished it. 

This is a lie, as reservations were turned off all day.  I turned them off to make sure we had room to seat the guests on the patio.  However, I had room for the two top and I made the reservation for the fancy, super-duper resort that might have a restaurant that loses reservations. 

So about 15 minutes after the couple leave the phone rings and I see that it’s the super-duper high-end resort, and I answer.  A girl says, I made a reservation for two of my guests tonight that I want to ask about….

I ask the name, and of course it’s the couple.

The girl says, the guests I made the reservation for have come back and I have their side of the story and I wanted to get your side of the story now. 

I think to myself and are mom and dad trying to decide who broke the vase that leaked during dinner.  (Only about three of you will get the reference). 

I say to the woman, the guest you are referring to did have reservations, we have made the decision not to serve them, and that’s all I can disclose.

She says, so you aren’t going to tell me what happened?

And I say of course not.

She gets incensed (I’ve loved this word since the song The Streak came out) and says you are seriously not going to tell me what happened.

I assure her that I am indeed not going to share with her the details.

She wants to know why not and I say, would you share details of a guest encounter that happened at cottage 15 when I call tomorrow?  No you wouldn’t.  You don’t need to know anything more than they were not served.

She hangs up.

And I think to myself.  It’s 9:00 in my little town.  And the only places still serving food are McDonald’s and Burger King out by the interstate.  I wonder if their red wine in a plastic cup will pair well with a Quarter Pounder w/ cheese or a Whopper?

I’d like to speak to the manager!!!

Racism was alive and well and living at my restaurant tonight.

Around 5:15 a 5 top walks in for their 5:30 reservation.  I’d just sat their server, so I’d told them it would be close to 5:30 before I could get them seated. 

They take a seat on the couch.  One of our food runners was at the door, helping me seat people.  She was standing there when an older man says to her, you must not be from Maine.

At this point she has neither spoken nor had any interaction with this group.

I hold my breath. 

He then says, she must be from New York.

The implication is you aren’t white so you can’t be from Maine.

She is polite.  I continue holding my breath wondering if I’m going to have to intervene. 

He drops it when she says she’s from Agentina. 

Whew.

But.

Around 9:00 tonight, I’m chatting with a server who is cashing out and a family enters the lobby.  A man and his two children. 

I ask if he enjoyed his meal. He says that he did. 

I have no memory of what was said next, but the next thing I’m hearing is that he hasn’t seen one negro since he’s been in Maine. 

I’m speechless.  I say nothing.

My server says nothing.

He leaves.

I say to my server, wait, wait, wait, wait, wait.  Wait until the door clicks shut.

And then she looks at me and says did he just say negro.  And did he just say it as loud as he did like there was no problem with it? 

I share the story of the older man earlier and comment that casual racism is alive and well and living in Maine. 

We were both speechless. 

I’d like to speak to the manager!!!

Yesterday when I got to work I had twelve million phone calls. 

I got to the ones I could. 

There were about 20 I just didn’t get to. 

One of those was a call about a lost credit card. 

When I got home last night, one of the things I did was check messages on our social media accounts to make sure there was nothing I need to respond to. 

Seems the girl with the card and left her card on Monday, had reached out on Instagram on Monday night and Chef had told her to call me and leave a message and I’d get back to her.  She did leave a message, on Tuesday but since I didn’t call her back she’d left four more Instagram messages saying we were ignoring her. 

I call her back as I moved through my list today. 

And as soon as I said who I was and told her we had her card, she launched into her grievance. 

I listened for about a second and said, first you called on Tuesday, we are not open on Tuesday.  I had 87 calls when I got to work yesterday, I call them back in the order they are received, I did not get to yours. I’m calling now.  How would you like to proceed. 

She wants me to mail the card and I say no.  It’s a liability but also, I don’t have time to do all that.

She then wants to come in on Friday morning and I say no to that as no one will be in the building. 

I suggest Friday night and she says how about Saturday afternoon.  I explain that we won’t be open till 5:00 so that she can stop by any time after 5:00 that works for her. 

She again shares her displeasure. 

I wish I’d told her I’d mail it to her, then just cut it up and let her wait for something that was never going to come.