I’d like to speak to the manager!!!

Tonight.

A man put ketchup on his 60 dollar filet.

That is all.

PS. We have steak sauce but our chef abhors ketchup for anything other than hotdogs.

A couple comes in for their reservation.

I find it.

Start to pull menus to get them seated.

The woman looks at me and says I’ll need the gluten free menu.

Huh?

I don’t know a single non corporate restaurant that has a dedicated menu.

I explain that we have one menu.

She grunts.

I wait.

She waits.

Finally she says I’m sure we’ll be fine.

Fun fact.

The reason we have no specified gluten free memu is that 98% of our menu is gluten free.

Steak doesn’t have gluten.

Pork chops don’t have gluten.

Gluten free fryer available.

Most of our sides are gluten free.

Flourless chocolate cake gluten free.

You know who has a hard time eating at our restaurant?

Vegans.

Vegans have a hard time.

We had a 5:00 reservation that specifically asked for a quiet table. We don’t have a lot of those.

Luckily our atrium area was open tonight.

They were seated.

About five seconds after they were served their entrees the server lets me know they are unhappy.

Seems they feel the porterhouse is too small. The ribeye is too fatty.

I ask her if they want to send them back.

She says they declined and were joking about it.

I tell her to keep me posted.

She comes by again a little later.

The joking is getting more intense. But they still haven’t sent them back.

Fast forward another 30 minutes or so.

The server has dropped the check.

The wife is furious that we didn’t take the steaks off the bill.

The server explains I’m at the door and they can address their concern on their way out. She also lets me know they are taking their steaks to go.

About 60 seconds later the husband comes to the desk.

He’s trying to be friendly but he’s not happy.

They’ve spent two hundred dollars on a meal they weren’t happy with.

I inquire as to what the problem was.

Turns out the porterhouse was too rare. They’d ordered medium rare.

I ask if they informed the server so that we could add more fire to it.

He said no as they didn’t feel like they should have to.

I explain we would have been happy to cook it more.

He insists he shouldn’t have had to ask for that.

He then explains that the porterhouse was a also not 20 ounces. He’s been around the block a time or two and there is no way it’s 20 ounces.

I explain that the chef hand cuts and weighs every piece of meat we serve. I assure him it’s 20 ounces and more likely 21 or 22 ounces.

He starts to say something else when his wife appears.

She slams her to go box down on the counter, followed by the check and informs me she is not paying the check till I take the steaks off the bill.

I explain that since she ate one steak and is taking the other one home that I won’t do that.

She says fine, she’ll just leave and not pay any of the check.

I say that that is her choice but I’d call the police and file a report for failing to pay for services rendered. Since we have her name, phone number, and credit card information, it won’t take long for them to find her.

This really pisses her off.

At this point she opens the to go box, picks up the porterhouse with her bare hand and starts waving it at me.

She’s shouting, at me about how rare the steak is, insisting that it’s raw.

The husband joins in.

He picks up potatoes from the box telling me how undercooked they are.

I’m seriously about to laugh.

No one has ever shaken their meat at me.

Euphemism implied.

They continue.

I ask them why if the steaks are so bad why they are taking them with them.

She explains she’s taking it home to cook it more.

I tell her we could have done that for her.

This continues.

People are going to the restroom. Leaving. Coming in.

Finally she slams cash on the counter and tells me she wants change for her bill.

It’s 189. I get her change.

I try to unsarcastically say thank you.

She leaves.

20 minutes later she’s back.

She’s even more angry.

She yells at me that I didn’t deduct her gift card from the bill. I tell her I had no idea she had a gift card. She yells it’s written in the back of the check.

How the fuck would I have known that?

I leave. Process the gift card. Give her the extra 50 bucks back.

She leaves.

I think to myself.

Well. That was fun.

We had our first prom couple in tonight.

They arrived at 5:00. Were out by 6:00.

They were both beautiful.

He was short. She was tall.

What was stringing was the young man’s confidence.

He strolled in with all the swagger of John Wayne. I loved it.

He came in. Announced his reservation and was off to the table.

The server said they were very polite. And sweet.

The whole thing made me smile.

Tonight, in the middle of the second turn, I discovered a reservation that specifically asked not to be in a booth.

They were currently scheduled to be seated in a booth.

The couple arrive. And we tell it will be a few minutes before we can seat them.

Another table opens up and I tell the host NOT to seat them there either.

Almost immediately another table leaves. The table is in our atrium area.

We get them seated.

The hosts, both of who are new, and young inquire as to why I sat them there instead of the other table.

I explain.

I’m a big guy. I don’t like confined spaces. I don’t like being in the way.

One of the two we were seating easily had 100 pounds on me.

Of course he didn’t want a booth. I don’t fit into most booths. I know his struggle.

The other table is right next to the wait station. Because if his size he would have blocked the way. And he would have been self conscious the entire time.

So, I found him a table, where he could relax and enjoy himself.

They loved the table, by the way.

This led to a conversation with my hosts about seeing people, as people, not just a table to seat.

Are the old, don’t make them walk across the restaurant.

Are they pregnant, don’t offer a high top.

Are they on crutches, allow them a place to be comfortable.

There is so much to hosting that you can only explain when it comes up.

I’m glad the couple tonight enjoyed themselves!

Tonight a couple ordered a filet.

They wanted it cold medium rare. And medium well.

They wanted the chef to cut the filet in Taos and then cook it to two different temperatures.

The chef cooked the steak medium rare and and sent it out.

The cut half the steak off and then had the steak cook it more.

But who thinks a restaurant will cook one steak to two different temperatures?

Table 27.

I’d like to speak to the manager!!!

Fun Fact: If. You are going to give your number to your server so that she may be able to contact you and your husband for fun…it would be a good idea to leave more than 15% on your $140 check.

Thanks for coming to my Ted talk!

Every night I sit on the right side of the sofa. Adam sits on the left. Eventually he ends up lying on the left side with his feet in my lap.

As he falls asleep I sit there watching tv. 99% of the time I gave a soda water and a bourbon on the sofa table behind us.

Almost three years ago I reached for the bourbon with my left hand and as I picked it up I noticed my hand trembling.

I chalked it up to being tired.

But it continued.

After a few weeks I became concerned. What if it were Parkinson’s disease?

I finally mentioned it to my doctor at my next physical. He assured me it was no tParkinson’s but did refer me to a neurologist.

She too assured me it was not Parkinson’s. She thought it was a famial tremor, but to make sure scheduled an MRI.

The MRI was normal.

She let me know the cause, the treatment, etc.

I started taking medicine that seemed to be working.

Until about 6 months ago.

The symptoms are worse.

I have a follow up appointment in a month but until then the tremors continue.

For the most part it’s not an issue. It’s really only noticeable when I drink bourbon sitting on the couch. I don’t notice it much otherwise.

Except tonight.

Tonight a server asked for help. He was busy and needed to cappuccinos made and taken to table 25.

I made the coffees.

Put them on a tray.

And picked them up.

Only I couldn’t carry them. My hand was shaking so badly I was terrified I was going to drop them.

I made it from the kitchen to the wait station.

The server saw me struggling, which was embarrassing, and took the coffees from me.

It’s really hard knowing that I can’t do what I used to do.

In 1987, I could carry three glasses in one hand with a fourth glass balanced on top of the three.

Today I couldn’t carry two coffees without being terrified I was going to drop one.

It’s hard acknowledging your weaknesses.

But.

I do try and own it.

As the server took the coffees from me I explained that I had a tremor in my left hand and was doing the best I could.

I don’t care what they thought.

Own your limitations.

Be who you are.

But.

Getting old sucks.

It’s been a long two days.

Yesterday I got to work with about 4 hours of sleep under my belt as we’d had to leave for the airport at 5:00 am.

Last night I saw Adam for the first time in a week. So it was close to 3:00 before I was in bed.

We had a wine tasting at work today so I had to be there at 10:00. So another 5 hour night of sleep.

Today went smoothly but it was long. I left close to 11:00.

However, as tired as I am the night ended on a positive note.

For the second time in two days someone complimented me on the changes I’d made at the restaurant and how smoothly things seemed to be running.

I see the progress but it’s nice to hear it from the outside. It made me feel less tired and very appreciated.

Hope everyone else had a great ending to their day.

We got to Florida around 11:00. Rented a car and headed south.

It was too early to check in to our hotel. So we did a bit of a tour of the main areas. Then we decided it was time for a beverage and a snack.

We decided to check out lunch at the restaurant we were having dinner at. Essentially, what’s the day time vibe.

We get seated at the bar. Order three Aperol spritzes. And some snacks.

We chat about the restaurant. The food. The trip.

At one point the bartender asks where we are from. We tell him. He tells us he’s never heard of it.

We share some facts. That we are a summer tourist town.

He shared that we are currently in a winter tourist town, and that the season is winding down.

We order another drink. Continue to chat.

We ask for the check and I say to the bartender, if you want to come north for the summer, give me a call. We can always use more help. And then hand him my business card.

We leave.

An hour later, my boss gets a call from our bartender at home who says he’s just gotten off the phone with a regular.

Seems he had gone into the same restaurant and sat at the bar. Upon being asked where he was from he shared the same location we shared.

The bartender pulls out my business card and says, do you know these people. And of course he did.

We all think what are the odds.

Fast forward to dinner.

We are being served by Sergio. Think GQ model. Perfect skin. Perfect biceps. Hello effect, dark beard. Perfect 30 inch waste. He was perfect. Exotic looking.

The service was spot on. He was very good at his job.

We order drinks.

Five minutes later he delivers them and says they are compliments of our regular from home.

It was awesome, and such a surprise!

We loved it.

Dinner was great. Food was spectacular. Service excellent.

It was a great first day!