When you’re gone, I’ll go mad. So don’t throw away this thing we had. Cuz when push comes to shove, I will kill your friends and family to remind you of my love.

I’d like to speak to the manager!

I’ve worked for a lot of restaurnts in my restaurant career. A LOT!

My best count if my memory serves me correctly, which is doubtful these days, is 24.

During those experiences, I worked for some amazing people. I also worked for some assholes.

Keith was an asshole.

Karen was an asshole.

Mike C. was an asshole.

Christine was an asshole.

Eddie was an asshole.

David was an asshole.

Mike S. was an asshole.

When I first started managing I decided that I would emulate the manager’s I’d had who were great. And do the opposite of the manager’s I’d had who were assholes.

I’ve already listed the managers who were assholes. The managers who were great.

Danny.

A different Karen.

Reggie.

Buddie.

Deborah.

Mary.

Follow the good ones. Deny the bad ones.

This week I posted a New Times Article about the chef at the world’s greatest restaurant. NOMA. He had defied all odds, and created something very special. The restaurant was amazing and set the gold standard.

However, the chef, Rene Redzepi, set the gold standard in EVIL. He not only verbally and emotionally abused his team. He physically abused them as well. He’d punch, slap, and hit his team with items, when he decided they had failed him in some way.

I’d love to say that I didn’t understand, but when you are getting experience in the world’s greatest restaurant you turn the other cheek.

Fuck, when you are getting experience in Maine’s best restaurants you turn the other cheek. Trust me I know. Been there done that.

One of the weirdest situations ever, was at Rafferty’s on Nicholasville Road in Lexington. The General Manager’s name was Karen and she was a beast. When you think of the hospitality industry you think of people who are hospitable. She was anything but.

The Saturday, before I quit without notice, around 6:30, she started to yell for all of the staff to meet her in the walk-in. Screaming at the top of her lungs. We all jammed into the small space. It was about 20 of us. Bartenders, servers, etc. There was no one on the floor at this point.

She began to tell us all the ways we were horrible at our jobs. This went on for a good 10 minutes before she told us that if we couldn’t go out there and do a better job then perhaps we should start looking for another job.

And out we went. I knew at the time it was a shit show, and I quit the following week.

Looking back, if I had to do it over, I’d have asked her if she as general manager wasn’t the problem if her entire staff was dropping the ball. The fish rots from the head back and she was the fish head.

In NYC, I had a manager who hated me for no reason. I requested time off to go on vacation. My request, was for the end of one schedule and the first day of the next schedule. She honored my request, but a week later scheduled me on the day I was traveling home.

I called and told the management team that I would not be there as I was traveling. When I showed up for work, for my next shift, she asked to see me, to tell me that I was going to be suspended without pay for missing my shift.

I said okay. The next day I met with the GM and dropped the word harassment about 17 times. By the time I was finished, I was not only not suspended, I was guaranteed quality shifts for the next month. PS. I got her transferred to a different restaurant but that’s another story.

When I worked in Kennebunkport (this deserves its own post) I reported an owner for inappropriate behavior and the next thing I knew I was being reprimanded in the corporate office for a whole host of things that weren’t true. When I documented my experience for HR, I was asked to change the facts so they wouldn’t get in trouble with the owner.

When I worked at David’s, I was once accused of being as bad at my job as the air traffic controllers who caused the plane crash in DC with the helicopter. My restaurant manager, walked out of the meeting, and I still am still amazed at how horribly I was treated. Fun fact, when I started working for him and employee of Adam’s told him I’d last a month as his reputation was known for being someone who was volatile and mean.

The truth is, there is still a belief that hospitality workers have no rights. They should tolerate the abuse. They should tolerate the hatred. They should tolerate the insanity. Because they aren’t as important as the owners, the chefs, the bosses.

I can’t say that I’m perfect. There are things that I’ve said that embarrassed me. BUT I have never verbally assaulted an employee. I’ve never treated my staff without respect.

In the meantime, the backlash at the chef at Noma shows how the times are changing. These horrible people are a dying breed. They have outlasted their usefulness. And hopefully will be a thing of the past very soon.

In the meantime. I ask myself what Mike, David, Karen and Christine would do. Then I do the opposite. Because I’d never want to be known as the asshole boss.

I’m not scared to be seen, I make no apologies, this is me

I’d like to speak to the manager!!!

Gay Pride Edition!

A friend posted my favorite clip from the TV show True Blood today.

You can view it here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=H7l-VVxCLo8

Whenever I see things like this, it reminds me of the decades of my life spent in the service industry.

This one brought back a very specific memory.

In the mid 90’s, I worked at an Italian restaurant, and I use the word Italian loosely, called The Italian Oven. My ex-boyfriend, Jim got me the job there, after I may or may not have walked out of a job at O’Charley’s, after a substitute manager, filling in for a pregnant manager I loved, yelled at me.

I find myself at The Italian Oven. It has black and white checkered plastic table cloths. The table cloths are covered with white craft paper. When you approach the table, you introduce yourself by name and write your name upside down in crayon on the table cloth. It never ceased to WOW the audience.

Fun fact. It takes about 22 seconds to learn to do this when your name only has 3 different letters.

It was a wood fired restaurant, that served mostly pizzas, calzones, and pastas. The food was remarkably not bad, and it’s where I learned to love tiramisu. We had a beer and liquor license and were very busy most nights. I made a comfortable living there, and had a good time most nights.

It’s funny, that I only remember a couple of people from there, so it didn’t make a huge impact on me, and I remember no one’s name but Jim’s.

What I do remember, is that one Saturday afternoon, toward the end of the lunch rush, a table of five arrives, and are seated in the far back right corner of the restaurant.

The server approaches the table.

I don’t remember his name. I can see his face. I can hear his voice. And he was fun to work with.

The one thing that I do remember is that he was gay. Undeniably gay.

The kind of gay, that when he opened his mouth, a purse fell out.

(We said these things back in the 80’s and 90’s).

He was also kind, and lovely, and the best server in the restaurant.

If I remember correctly, he was the person who trained me.

He approaches the table, introduces himself, writes his name on the table, and is responded to with the following:

You gay?

What?

Are you gay?

What?

We don’t want no gay person waiting on us, get us a new server!!!

I’m in the kitchen with a couple of other servers, and the very straight, very redneck, very religious manager who was on duty. We’ll pretend his name is Robert, which I think it was.

He says, Hey Robert, table 43 has told me they need a new server, because and I quote, they don’t want no gay server waiting on them.

They may have used the “f” word. I don’t remember.

Robert wants to know if he heard them correctly.

He is assured that he heard them loud and clear.

Robert says, I’ll be right back.

He might as well have said, hold my beer.

He goes to the table and says, excuse me, I hear that you have a problem with your server?

They reply, yeah we don’t want no gay person waiting on us.

Robert says, well I don’t know what to tell you all my servers are gay.

They question him.

He says, yes, we only hire gay servers here.

They then ask, if he can wait on them.

He replies, well yes, I can wait on you. I do wait tables from time to time, but I’m gay too, so I don’t know what to tell you.

They hem and haw and eventually realize what is happening.

He says, if you don’t mind a queer manager waiting on you, I’ll be glad to get you some food.

Instead, they gather their belongings and leave.

And I’ve never been happier to work for a redneck, conservative, Christian manager.

Keep it glad, keep it mad, keep it gay!

I rarely write about guests these days.

Until tonight. 

 A server asked a single gentleman, who was waiting for the rest of his party, what she could get him to drink, and he replied, “I think I’ll get a f*ggy drink tonight, so make it a cosmo. 

She was taken aback to say the least.  

She asked me what she should do or say, I said, if he doesn’t say anything else inappropriate, just pretend that that’s not what he said.    

Since nothing else offensive came from him, I’m choosing to believe he said something else all together.

However, as a rule, most f*ggy men I know, prefer bourbon to cosmopolitans, just so you know.

It’s all about the job and getting it done around here…

I’d like to speak to the manager!!!

I love talking to people at work.

I love, love, love it.

Which comes in handy when you are conducting interviews.

I like to just have a conversation with the person, peppering the chat with the questions I like to ask.

However, when you need to hire someone, especially more than one someone, it can make for long days going through the process.

Especially, when you have put aside the day to do so.

Yesterday, our restaurant manager, and I had interviews set up from 11:00 a.m. to 3:00 p.m.

One interview every half hour.

And miracle of miracles they all showed.

Which never, ever, ever happens.

At least not in the last 10 years.

The interview at 11:00 was great. The conversation flowed, the person was normal. Great experience. We laughed a lot.

Such was the case for all 8 (6 servers, 2 hosts) interviews. It’s the most successful day of interviews I’ve had since 2013.

However, by 3:00, when the last interviewed finished up, I was exhausted.

It’s literally ground hog day.

Hi. Tell me about yourself.

Where are you from?

What do you do for fun?

Why do you want to work here?

Why did you leave your last job?

You get the gist.

Actually, I didn’t even ask any of these questions yesterday.

By 3:00 the manager and I couldn’t remember who was who. Who said they had open availability? Who was a sommelier? Who was a psychology student? Who moved here from Boston? Who moved here from L.A.?

Yes, we had notes, and resumes, and we had to look at them to remember the details.

And then the appointments wind down, and you realize that the emails have kept coming, the voicemails is full and you are now behind a day.

I actually look forward to the first day of interviews in the spring. Which was yesterday.

It means that spring is approaching. That winter will be winding down around the time everyone is trained. It’s kind of like seeing the buds on the trees, or a crocus peaking through the ground.

However.

We have the same schedule tomorrow. And oh, my, god. I’m already stressed about all the work I need to get accomplished besides 8 interviews.

AHHHHHHH!!!!

Whew. I feel better.

I’ll get off my poor, poor me soap box.

It’s great to have people apply.

It’s great to have people show up.

It’s great to have people qualified for the position to interview.

It’s nice to have choices.

The real stress from yesterday, and probably tomorrow is who we’ll have to disappoint because so far, we have 6 great serving candidates, and only have 1.5 positions available.

It’s the first time I’ve been able to make decisions like this since 2017.

Let’s hope the trend continues.