So keep right to the end. You’ll find your goal my friend. Find your friend. Then the prize you won’t fail find your grail! Find your grail!

I’d like to speak to the manager!!!

It’s the day after Labor Day!!!

I met two employees at a bar tonight for a post cleaning cocktail and the bartender said, “Cheers to local’s summer!”  It’s the time of year when you begin to see the winter locals come out of hibernation. 

They are splotchy white, from lack of sunshine, as they’ve been hiding in their homes, counting down the days to Labor Day when it’s safe to come out into the light.  

It’s a miracle of miracle every year when we get to the date.  

Trust me, we MUST have the summer.  It’s how, my staff pays their rent in January.  

It’s how the restaurant pays its labor in the depths of the winter.  

As manager’s we preach to our staff, save your pennies, because Winter IS coming.  

Although, since Covid, winter has not been as deserted as before.  There are still people in town.  There are more people traveling north.  There are just more people in general.  So it’s not as bleak as it was in 2013, when I had January nights, with a bartender and two servers, and we did 4 guests.  2 two tops.  

And you must never, ever close early.  

My restaurants were closed today for cleaning.  Twice a year, we shut down and power wash the shit out of everything.  Every nook and cranny gets a wipe down, or a coat of paint.  We’ll finish up tomorrow, have a staff meeting, and reopen on Thursday.  

You could sense a difference in the team today as everyone was happy and fun.  We had the music pumping and most everyone was in a good mood. 

We now turn to cruise ship season and leaf peeper season.  

These are NOT the same people who vacation in the summer.  It takes money to summer in Maine.  Hotels are upwards of 600+ dollars, even more if you have a view.  

The people we get now, are retirees, and families, who come to Maine to see the leaves change and enjoy the cooler weather.  

Speaking of cooler weather, it dropped to 48 last night in Portland.  

We still have the a/c on.  

We also start to get a plethora of cruise ships and tour buses.  These are 100% retirees, who have come to Maine to see the leaves.  They come off the ship and buses and go to the closest restaurant selling chowder and lobster rolls for the cheapest price.  We are a little bit too far away from the wharfs to see them, but occasionally they venture up to us.  They are in a hurry, and are not known for tipping.  When I worked in KPT during the teens we saw them, and because we didn’t offer them a discount they often didn’t stay. 

Oh. And they need the whole process to take less than 30 minutes.

The whole point of this post is to say, we made it to Labor Day.  

I 100% guarantee you every hospitality worker in Portland has had this conversation in the last two days. 

 I guarantee you.  

It’s a conquest every year. 

Like passing the bar exam. 

Like killing the Night King. 

Like melting the Wicked Witch.   

Like pulling the sword from the stone?  

Like finding the Holy Grail. 

Like winning gold at the Olympics.  

It’s that.  

Without the fame and fortune.  

But give it to me every hour, Forty hours every week, And that’s enough for me to be living like a king!

I’d like to speak to the manager!!!

It’s Labor Day tomorrow.  (It’s currently Sunday night).  

The unofficial end to summer.  

For most of you, that means school is back in session, the days are getting shorter, and you can no longer wear white.  

For those of us in the hospitality industry, in a tourist town in the northeast, its the official end of the craziness.  

Tomorrow will be significantly slower than last Monday.  There will still be business, but for those who track these things, the slowdown happens.  If a stranger walked in, they’d think I’m crazy, but a 20% decrease is just enough to breathe.  Sigh.  Know, that for the most part, the worst is behind us.   

When I worked in Kennebunkport, 10 years ago, it was the countdown we did to the end of the summer. The Friday, Saturday, Sunday of Labor Day were insane.  The last big weekend of the year.  On Sunday, we’d keep the whole staff until we were done.  When the last guests were out of the building, we pour beer and wine for the team.  And I’d toast the great job they’d all done to get us where we were.  

Summer there was insane.  Summer at my current restaurant is busy but not like Kennebunkport.  10 years ago, we were doing 600 people for lunch and 600 people for dinner.  We’d open the doors at 11:30 and we wouldn’t stop until around 10:00 when we locked the doors.  It was intense.    

We’d have close to 175 employees for the summer.  That’s a lot of food prepped, a lot of silver rolled, a lot of glasses polished.  We’d push for that first weekend in September. 

Then we’d toast.  We’d breath.  

And we’d come back the next day, to start the count down to Indigenous People’s Day.  

That’s when we could really breathe.  

I hadn’t thought about the end of summer toast for a long time, but I talked to my friend Laura tonight, and she asked if we had toasted to the end of summer tonight.  

We did not.  

We cleaned up, moved some furniture around, so our floors can be refinished tomorrow, and we all said goodbye.  

Happy Labor Day.