First.

I’m tired.

We continue to do record numbers. The numbers we did tonight we weren’t doing till mid July last year. A month after I started.

How tired am I?

I fell asleep writing my last post last night. I woke up with my phone in my hand three hours later. The sun was coming up. The typos in all of my poats from last night were embarrassing.

I’m also overwhelmed.

I‘ve been in the weeds since March. There is no catching up. There are days I twiddle my thumbs mostly because I don’t have the energy to do the next thing.

It’s the first restaurant general manager job I’ve had where I didn’t have a number 2 and a number 3.

I’ve always had staff.

I hadn’t written a schedule in years when I started this job. I hadn’t created sections in years. I hadn’t ordered liquor in years.

My people did that.

Im a one man band.

I do ALL of the administrative work. I write the schedule. I answer the phone. I return the calls. I now respond to the hundreds of requests that come in for large party reservations. For information on weddings and rehearsal dinners. I do payroll. I maintain (I misspelled this word in a spelling bee in 1979) the tip spreadsheet. I track sales. I am accountable for deposits. I do all the interviewing. I do all the hiring. I track all the new hires. Do all the orientation meetings. All the onboarding for new hires. Did o mention that I had about 40 calls today from the time I got to work and turned over the phones to the host team?

Im exhausted just typing that.

It’s also the first time I’ve spent service hours on the floor. In previous restaurants I was available but I was often in the office. This is not possible now. We are too busy. At 4:50 when we open the doors I’m on. Shaking hands. Putting out fires. Running recooks. Dealing with the weather. Doing voids and comps.

Im a busy man.

So.

This was a long introduction to my post tonight.

Tonight was the hardest easy night I have ever had.

It was SMOOTH.

BUT.

The night started with my new host arriving. Great. I’m super happy to have her join the team. But I also remember I never sent her floor plans.

While I’m meeting with the hosts to give them instructions for the evening a young man walks in dressed in black.

He says hello.

Who is this. I look at him. I look at him. I look at him.

Oh fuck.

He the son of a friend of the restaurant. I hired him in March.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

He’s arrived without going through orientation. I have no paperwork for him.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

I get the hosts squared away.

I get the new guy squared away.

I spend the next six minutes swallowing my lunch whole.

We finish preshift. It’s time to open the doors. No music.

Fuck.

This has been happening a lot lately. Turns out that Amazon Prime wants chef to pay extra for the music. He thought he’d taken care of it.

No big deal. He’s on it.

Except.

Every. Single. Server.

Comes to me and says, you know the music is not on!

Seriously?

I hadn’t noticed that it was as quiet as could be with a restaurant full of people.

Chef gets the music on.

Whew.

I head to the patio.

I need to make sure they are all set.

They are.

I’m there five seconds when an indoor host appears saying I’m needed at the door.

I head back inside.

A host is on the phone with a lady who wants to bring a cheeseboard to the restaurant.

Seriously.

I take the phone.

The lady explains they have a cheeseboard with them. It’s hot. She insists I put it in the walk-in while they dine with us.

I explain that I can’t go this.

She pushes back.

I say no.

She asks for ice.

I say we don’t have plastic bags.

(I‘d like to point out that this is not our problem. Also drive by the grocery store, pick up a hot/cold bag. And you’ll be all set).

Meanwhile a two top has been seated whose family called to pay for their meals.

The couple wants to buy two copies of chef’s new cookbook.

Did I mention chef has a cookbook.

The couple wants it signed. Chef is now 20 tickets deep into cooking.

I have a 20 minute conversation about cookbooks.

It was probably 3 minutes but it felt like 20.

The chaos continues.

All little things. None of them serious.

Until 6:45 when I head to the patio only to discover that it is raining.

WHAT THE ABSOLUTE FUCK???

Seriously.

If it didn’t rain by 4:00 we were in the clear.

The rain lasted about 7 minutes.

Thank god everyone outside was jovial about. Some tables didn’t even move. They could see the sun behind the clouds.

The rain stopped. We dried the chairs and tables.

And finally.

Finally my night became okay.

Getting back to the start of my post.

Last Saturday I was chatting with a server after close. It was a fun chat. And I don’t remember how it came up but I ask him for feedback.

He said I was disorganized.

I’m not. I’m really not.

Im just too busy and have to prioritize things.

I told my new host tonight that I was going to stop apologizing for not being prepared.

I’m doing the best I can.

I challenge someone to do it better without coming in several hours earlier.

Tonight was a good night.

I’m proud of where I work.

I really do love my job.

I’d like to speak to the manager!!!

For the past ten months, 80% of the phone calls we’ve received have been fielded by me.

I either answer.

Or I return the call.

This isn’t a bad thing.

But there are people who thing I have to be involved to get what they want.

Tonight, I approach the host stand and Olivia, the host says, she’s had two calls asking for me specifically.

She has explained that I’m not available. Exactly as she has been instructed to do.

One of the calls is from a local business, a woman I know well.

This is important because 20 minutes later this woman is in our lobby calling me over.

She wants to introduce me to her friends.

Three people from Arkansas.

Very. Very. Very thick accents.

She has arrived with them.

They have a reservation for 2 people but have shown up with three people.

We are booked solid.

I turn the iPad toward me and find a solution.

Now they want to sit at the bar to have a drink first.

They are 60 minutes early for their reservation.

I figure that issue out.

They are seated.

And then they pull out their racist bullshit. Chatting about the Asian couple seated near them. Muslims.

Bullshit.

The bartender is losing her mind.

They also tell the bartender that I called them white trash.

Hmmm.

Those words are not in my vocabulary.

I’ve had those words used to describe be.

I don’t use them.

They just need to be human beings.

Not assholes.

I’d like to speak to the manager!!!

Summer is definitely here.

Our numbers have increased.

But.

More importantly the grumpy people have increased a million times over.

I told one server tonight to just preface her issue with “the summer people are here.”

Tonight a server asked a table how they’d like their steak cooked. He said charred.

She explained that charred wasn’t a temperature.

This he began to berate her.

Being difficult for the sake of being difficult.

She asked if he wanted it Pittsburg style.

He said no because that was raw in the middle.

He continues to lecture her.

She finally ordered it Pittsburgh medium.

He didn’t complain.

Then table 25 gets their steak.

Send it back because it’s over cooked.

The server brings it to the kitchen. It had been ordered medium.

In the kitchen.

Under the bright lights.

It was a perfect medium.

I’m called to the kitchen to be shown the steak.

I’m told to go speak to the table.

I do.

I explain the steak is a perfect medium. Etc. etc.

The guest says. And I repeat. I did not order a medium steak. I ordered it pink.

Pink is not a temperature.

Pink is not choice.

The guest takes the steak back.

Then at the first opportunity in front of the server makes a show of pushing it aside.

He of course took the steak home with him in a doggy bag.

One of my servers tonight said we should offer our guest a tract like the Jehovah Witnesses. We’ll call it an Introduction to our Lord and Savior: Common Sense.

It would lay out the rules of eating in a restaurant.

I couldn’t agree more.

Fun fact: Menus change. Often.

Everyone who wants to stay current changes their menu.

We changed ours a month ago.

A table of 4 was in tonight.

One of the guests accosts me in the lobby to let me know her thoughts on the changes.

She is pissed that the avocado salad is no longer on the menu. Pissed she says.

She is also angry that her cheeseburger wasn’t served with lettuce, tomato and onion. She is really angry that there was no lettuce that could be brought to her after she received her burger.

I just listen.

She clearly thought she was dining at Burger King where you can have it your way.

However, at my restaurant we do not add anything to the burger.

You can’t get sautéed onions as we don’t have a flat top to sauté them on.

You can’t get avocado.

You can’t get LTO.

You can’t.

Why you ask?

Because when you are doing volume special rea quests can kill the kitchen.

I worked at a restaurant that had a Cobb salad.

No one.

I repeat no one.

Ever ordered the salad that was on the menu.

Can I get no bleu cheese. No onion. Extra bacon. Add chicken. Can the chicken not have seasoning. And can you split it.

Meanwhile there are 14 of these salads in the kitchen. And inevitably it gets made wrong. Or taken to the wrong table.

So we will allow deletions.

No additions.

She was not happy with me.

She said it was weird.

Hmmm.

Tonight at 8:00 a bunch people walk in.

A woman walks up and says we are the Smith party of 10.

I say we don’t have a Smith party of 10.

She explains oh, yes, we made two 5 top reservations.

Ugh.

I explain that unfortunately they can’t sit together. In fact we have them at 2 separate tables, in two private rooms.

This starts chaos on their part.

This is my favorite thing that people do.

Often when we say no, the party will wander into the dining room and then come back to explain how we can make it work.

Tonight’s party did that.

Two women wander in.

They are back in 90 seconds to explain that they can sit in one of the rooms.

I explain that they cap out at 8.

They wonder back in.

Come back and say they’ll make it work.

I say no.

I finally send them in to be seated at their two tables and 90 seconds later a man appears and wants to know why they can’t just squish and I say because it’s not fair to the server whose been waiting on a five top all night.

He say oh. Okay.

They sit at two separate tables.

The host as she’s seating them says, next time just call the restaurant we have large rooms we could have put you in but unfortunately they are just not available tonight.

I don’t have a lot of patience who think they are getting one over on us.

The app says call for parties over 6.

The website says call for parties over 6.

So call. For parties over 6.

Tonight a server finds me in the lobby.

She is holding a bottle about the size of a nip.

A nip for those who don’t know is the New England term for a tiny airplane bottle of booze.

It’s not a nip.

It’s a bottle of some flavoring.

She explains that her table has brought in their own ingredients for a cocktail. They just need to use our booze.

This is a first ever for me.

I have to explain that NO we can’t do that. People can’t bring their own products.

As I said it’s a first for the bar.

I have had people show up with a cooler and want the chef to cook the seafood they brought from their fishing trip.

Either way.

It’s a hard NO.

I’d like to speak to the manager!!!

I just sat down to read Facebook.

This was in my messages. From work.

It’s 12 hours later. I never responded. I’m not on Facebook or my phone during work.

I have no idea if she came in for dinner tonight.

We could have easily accommodated her if she wanted to.

She just needed to call.

Tonight started like any other day.

Staff arrived at 4:00.

Lots of scurrying around.

Preshift at 4:30.

Doors open at 4:50.

And the curtain went up.

The lights went down.

The music was turned on.

Action!

And all was well.

Until 5:55.

I’m standing at the window and chef says oh the Smith’s are here. I look up and recognize them from a couple of months ago.

About 90 seconds later a server appears to let me know the Smith’s are pissed.

They had requested to sit in her section and it wasn’t going to happen.

Ugh.

So I approach the door.

I get to the host stand.

And he launches into the fact that he had requested a specific server and had been told she wouldn’t be waiting on them.

I look at the seating chart.

I look at our options.

Backstory.

He’d had originally been scheduled to be in her section but had been moved because I made a mistake.

However.

This server had three requests tonight.

There was no way within the way we do our sections that she could have all three.

I had scheduled a 2 and a 6 top request in her section.

However, when I got to the door I was willing to make it work until I realize the angry guest had arrived with 5 people when he reserved for 4 people.

At this point to accommodate them they have to be across the restaurant from the severs section

He is not happy.

I look at him and explain that unfortunately we can’t let her wait on him tonight.

But we requested her when we made the reservation.

Yes, but it’s just a request. It says so when you make your reservation.

This only make him more angry.

I know what it says. I don’t care. There is no reason she can’t serve us.

I explain that once again this can’t happen tonight.

At this point he doubled down.

I don’t care. Make it happen. I’ve been a restaurant consultant for 30 years and this is just wrong.

He’s yelling at this point.

I’ve decided at this point that even if I could have done something that he wasn’t getting rewarded for bad behavior.

I finally look him in the eye and say, this is not going to happen. It can’t happen. I don’t have a way to make it happen.

He loses his shit.

He’s shouting how of course I can make it happen. He’s never coming back. We are losing a good customer. This is ridiculous.

I say I’m sorry he feels that way. I’m also thinking chef is going to kill me for this.

He continues yelling about how he’s never coming back as he walks to his table and sits down for dinner.

I find out later that he was rude to the host because she didn’t know who he was.

He was rude to her about the table.

He was rude to the server WHO did wait on him.

All in all he acted like a theee year old who was told he had to eat his vegetables.

And I don’t reward bad behavior.

Fun facts.

He repeated all the way to the table that he was never coming back as he was seated and spent 500 bucks on dinner.

He is a restaurant consultant. Which causes me to be embarrassed for him. If he’s advising management and thinks it’s okay to treat people like this way it truly makes me sad for him. And sad for a restaurant who is paying him.

He tipped his server 18%. I’m even more embarrassed for him now if he’s in the business.

If he’s in the business and doesn’t know you can’t just bring an additional person and not expect the restaurant to struggle to accommodate you.

With the host he pulled the don’t you know who I am card.

When the server explained the chef likes the whole order at one time he said our normal server never makes up rules we have to follow. If he was in the business he’d know every chef likes the complete order.

Perhaps he consults for fast food because he certainly does know how full service restaurants works.

And chef was not angry.

He supported me 100%. Basically agreed with my call.

Summer is here!

For those of you in the rest of the world, I work in a coastal New England tourist town.

We are quiet in the winter.

We are busier in the shoulder season (April, May, September, October).

But June, July and August is in season.

We talk at work that we have 18 weeks to make our money for the year. Memorial Day to Indigenous Peoples Day. Those 18 weeks are crucial for survival for most of us.

The reason these 18 weeks are crucial is that our towns are filled with people who summer here. From north to south people migrate north and make their homes here for the server.

The fun thing about these people is that although 99.9999% of them are wonderful, there is a small but loud contingent that makes their summer complete by treating the service staff in the area miserably.

They are entitled. They are often wealthy. They are boisterous. They are loud. They are rude. And they live to yell at people.

Well.

Summer is here.

The mean people have arrived.

I worked six days this week.

4 out of the 6 days I was treated like shit and received bad reviews.

I didn’t change. I do my job the same everyday.

The guests have changed.

So.

Summer is here.

I’ll be in the walk-in punching a wall.

How about a funny story tonight?

Chef went to the worlds largest restaurant supply convention last fall. It was in Milan and he was gone for a week.

He came back with a million ideas.

And he broke the bank buying new things for the restaurant.

Fancy lamps to replace the candles on our tables.

A fancy espresso machine that does everything except roll silverware at the touch of a button.

And a high end Italian gelato maker.

It took months for these products to come in.

And even longer for the plumbing and electric to be run.

As of a week ago the gelato maker is finally up and functioning.

Last week two people came from Italy and taught our team how to use it.

The team has been playing around with flavors while we work through the homemade gelato we had from before.

So chef has been sending out new flavors to people he knows to get their opinion on them.

Ferrero Rocher. Merlot. And Aperol spritz.

Today I’m called to the window to run some gelato to a table. The chef hands it to the expo and says have Jeff run this Aperol Spritz gelato to the Bar 6.

She hands it to me and says can you take this apple spritz to the bar please. B6.

I ask her to repeat the flavor.

She’s says it’s apple spritz.

And I laugh and ask chef what’s in apple spritz gelato.

Then we explain what it is.

Of course she’s only 22 and have most 22 year olds even heard of Aperol.? I’m not even sure I knew what Merlot was at 22. And a 29 year old had never heard of Ferrero Rocher yesterday.

The guests said it tasted just like an Aperol Spritz.

I can’t wait to try it.