Something Requisitely Witty and Urbane

Raspberries and Champagne

Today was a good day.

I opened the restaurant this morning, and set about the task of doing the morning paper work.  About half and hour after I got there, the phone rang, and it was the concierge desk for a local hotel near DFW airport.  He began by telling me that he had a guest, and wanted to bring his girlfriend their for dinner.  He had barely gotten started when he said "Wait, I've got the gentleman right here, let me put him on the phone."

I talked to him for a little while, and there was a long story involved.  It turns out that he is in the Army (an E4, I later found out), and he's been in Iraq.  He is on leave for two weeks, he had just met his first child for the first time the day before and, today, he wanted to propose to his girlfriend.

We went over what he wanted to have happen, and his voice was shaking already.  "You are having a good week," I said to him... "Yes," he said, and then told me just how nervous he was.  I told him we had a nice table in our Library area which would be quiet and romantic.  "No," he told me.  "I want to be right out in the middle of the restaurant, because I want everyone to see her."

So, basically this is what we did.  We reserved a table right in the middle of the restaurant.  When he came in, he quickly excused himself to go to the restroom, and we met in the hallway near the restrooms.  He gave me the ring, which he had gotten made out of an older ring which belonged to her grandmother.  Her grandmother had raised her, he told me, because her parents died when she was young, and it was important to her that the ring have some connection to her family.  I briefed him on how we were going to bring the ring out, so at least he wouldn't be too surprised by it, and then he went and sat back down.

Brian (a frequent SRWU commenter and reader), was waiting on them, and he took their order.  They had appetizers, and then their salad course came next.  He told me the time he wanted to do it was after the salads.  When they had finished them, our chef made flowers out of some cloth napkins, and put them on a plate.  We took some raspberries, put them in champagne flutes, and poured some champagne.  We took the flutes, and put each on a plate.  On her's, we put the ring box. 

Brian took her's and I took his, and we walked out to the table.  As we sat them down, Brian said "We've got a little toast for you," and then he opened the box in front of her.  I grabbed the camera.  The groom to be took the ring and got on his knee and popped the question.  I snapped pictures (although I couldn't find the zoom in time on the camera, so they are wide-angle shots.... Brian said we could just say I was trying to capture the enormity of the moment).  Everyone in the restaurant clapped, and it was a really great moment.

I was really excited all day long, and it was nice to have such a good pay off.  What made me all warm and fuzzy inside, however, was that 45 seconds couldn't have passed by after he had finished asking her before at least 5 guests asked to pay for their meal.  It was really great and a true indication that, no matter what your politics are, or how you feel about what is going on in Iraq, everyone can appreciate and respect what he is doing for our country, and what she is doing too. 

I said to someone tonight that I can only imagine how intense things like starting a family and marriage are, but to have all of that magnified under the circumstances the two of them find themselves in... well, I don't know that I can fathom it.

I talked with them a little after the fact.  They were very nice, and so completely gracious.  It is very cool to me that I was so personally involved in something so personal to these two people.  They are two people which I might never see again, but there is something kinda special about the fact that I'm part of their "story."  Sometimes, I have a really great job.

God told me to...

It was a pretty slow night tonight at work.

I had only two tables in my station.  One of them was a bit friendly.  This isn't a bad thing, but it was strange because it made things a little awkward.  It was one of those tables that you felt like you had to be witty EVERY time you went by the table.  I only barely survived.  Luckily, as I should have come to expect, my wit was up to the task.

At one point, the lady at the table went to the restroom.  I was helping another waiter out, when a few minutes later, a friend of mine, Erin, walked by, crying a little bit.  I went to see what was up.  "I'm a little freaked out right now," she said.  She told me that the lady from my table, on her way back to the table, came up to her and said "I don't know how to say this, but I just feel like God is telling me that I need to give you this purse.  I don't know what you are going through or anything, but I'm just supposed to give you this purse."  She proceeded to hand Erin the purse she had with her at the table. 

Of course, as the story spread, everyone's first question was "Is it empty?"  It was empty, which makes it a strange gesture to me.  I asked Erin later, "Well, did this mean something to you?" and she said that it did.  I didn't press her, so I don't know why.

I'm kinda torn about this.  I find it unlikely that "God" would spend his time telling someone to give their purse away.  However, I do believe that there is some truth to the idea of being able to tap into something in the ether (whatever another plane of existence is).  I guess I don't view it as a supernatural thing though.   My rationale for this has always been that 300 years ago, if you'd handed someone a little box and told them that with this box you could hear voices that are floating around in the air, they'd have thought you were crazy or demon possessed.  Today, however, the radio isn't that big a mystery.

So, I do think there is a way to "tap into" the things that are out there, we just understand how it works.

Not very often that a slow night at work leads someone to ponder the metaphysical.

Weekends

I guess I'm just going to have to get used to the fact that management is going to mean that I'm working a whole lot more.

I got spoiled by waiting tables here, because rarely did a shift go over 5 hours, and the earliest you had to be here was 4:00. 

The GM of our store left on Thursday for a month long trip to his homeland of Germany.  This means myself and the other MIT, Eric, are managing a whole lot more.  I realized in the middle of the week that my weekends are going to be long for the next 4 weeks, as I'm closing down things on Fridays, opening them up on Saturdays, and soloing on Sundays. 

I normally have some time during the morning hours to blog about a few things here, but just in case weekend posting gets sporadic, you'll know why.

When I was young, I never needed anyone...

A momentous day, today is.  I am, for the first time, managing solo. 

That's right.  I'm going to be the only person here today who is in charge of if the shift is successful or not.  If a someone complains, and I think they are being and assface, it is entirely up to me to decide if they should get anything paid for, or if I just simply nod my head and say "I'm very sorry, you ass face." 

The ass face part will be said under my breath with my back turned.

Yes, with great power comes great responsibility (Spiderman rules), and so I shall now use this power to turn my restaurant into a shining beacon in the landscape of otherwise dull and dismal food service.  I shall make this place a Mecca wherst many shall pilgrimage in search of great steaks and seafood in a casual dining atmosphere. 

I shall rule my servers with an iron fist, bending all to my will, and allowing none to usurp my authority.  The service will be crisp, and the staff shall be mighty.

Eh, who am I kidding, I'll probably hang out in the office and look at internet porn all night.

Dylan's Restaurant Massacre, with full orchestration and five part harmony and stuff like that...

Well, I survived.  It has been a long, long week.

Let me give you a bit of background.  On a busy weeknight we'll do 150-180 covers.  If we hit 200 we've gotten our asses handed to us.  On the weekends that number goes up to 250.  If we hit 300 covers we'll be doing really really well.

This past New Year's Eve we did over 500.

Earlier in the week I wrote this grumpy little post (and Lori was probably right... I probably needed a hug), outlining my schedule for this Valentine's day weekend. Well, Saturday night we did almost 400 covers.  400 people who couldn't get reservations on Valentine's day booked came on Saturday (which then inspired THIS grumpy little post).

Sunday, a day when we hope for 120 covers, we did close to 250... and then came the dreaded day.

It was long. We did about 300 covers, which was good, but a bit shy of what we did last Valentine's day (granted, last year it fell on a Saturday, but there was a snow storm that day too)... The unfortunate thing about Valentine's Day from a restaurant perspective is that it starts right when you open the doors and doesn't stop until you close.  For a group of waiters who've gotten spoiled by 4 hour shifts in which you are busy for maybe an hour, this makes for a rough time.

Of course I opened the restaurant yesterday morning.  I made things worse on myself yesterday night by starting to countdown the minutes at roughly 5:30, which dragged things out significantly.  All the while, all I could think of was getting through this shift.

And then the inevitable realization would come to me that, once the shift was over, I had to be back up here, at the restaurant this morning looking forward to another 12 hour shift.

Seriously, no one told me this management business was gonna be longer hours and harder work.

But, I'm starting to see the light at the end of the tunnel.  Once through this shift, I have two days off in a row. A virtual weekend, except better because everything is open and all the jackasses I've been waiting on all week will be working.  It is entirely possible that I can go anywhere I want without having to have any human contact with anyone.

Perfect.

(Incidentally, just as I was finishing up this post, a lady called to make a reservation, and she called me "love." It made my day, and may have partially restored my faith in the beauty of random human contact).

You stupid dumbasses (an open letter to men for Valentine's Day)

Dear Fellows,

When taking out your lady friends on Valentine's Day at a nice restaurant wherein you can enjoy a tasty meal in the hopes that you will impress her enough for her to agree to have sex with you afterwords, you might wanna put a little more thought into it than simply calling up the afore mentioned restaurant the morning of the hoped-for sex to make a reservation.  You aren't gonna get one (or any, for that matter).

If you were smart enough to call more than a week in advance and have managed to procure yourself a reservation at a nice restaurant, you might wanna make sure you have enough money to, say, purchase two entrees for you and the woman you are wishing to impress to the point where she will agree to have sex with you.  The woman will not be impressed when she gets to eat half of your steak.

When ordering, every single waiter will ask for the lady's order first.  This happens if it is Valentine's Day or not.  When you jump in and order your food (as all of you seemed inclined to do last night) she will think you rude and will probably not be impressed enough to sleep with you.

Let us assume for a moment, however, that Eros has smiled upon you this day, and despite your procrastination and your dwindling funds you have managed to garner a table at said restaurant.  When you look at the menu and realize that you can't really afford it, taking it out on your waiter by being rude to him or her will not impress your lady friend, and she will definitely not sleep with you.  Besides, chances are that if you are one of the men that finds himself in this position, the waiter at the nice restaurant makes more money than you do.  While you take in this revelation, pause for a moment and reflect on just how far down the social pyramid you've slipped.  Seriously, you didn't have a reservation, a deficiency you've managed to overcome by no skill of your own, you have no money, something you should have checked out before you came in, you've been rude to your date by ordering first, and you've taken out your aggression on your waiter.  At this point, your lady friend is more likely to sleep with your waiter than with you.

Look, you are lucky enough to have a lady with you who agreed to let you "be her Valentine."  Just because she agreed to that doesn't mean sex is a foregone conclusion. 

If you cannot afford the nice restaurant, cannot think far enough ahead to make a reservation, and cannot contain yourself longer than 30 seconds for the lady to order first then there is a Chili's down the street, I'm sure the wait is going to be an hour or less, and if you are resorting to this, you probably aren't getting laid anyway, so feel free to order first.

Your friendly, neighborhood waiter's association.

What's a weekend?

You might remember that a couple of weeks ago I had an entire weekend off.  There was a reason I was so excited... because it hardly ever happens in my business.

Let me give you a little insight into the next five or six days hold for me.  You are all just settling into your weekends, and I'm just getting rolling.  First of all, Monday is Valentine's Day.  This is one of the three busiest days of the year for us, being an upscale steakhouse.  Because of the calender, with the day falling on Monday, the preceding weekend is getting some of the business too.  Basically, it started tonight.  So, I started working at 4:00 tonight (Friday).  At the end of the shift, we had to finish up the January inventory counts, so I didn't get home until midnight or so.Tomorrow, I am going in to open up the restaurant at 11:30, then I work what will be a busy Saturday night.  I'm probably looking at about 12 hours of work tomorrow, and if I'm home before midnight it will be a small miracle.

Sunday, I don't have to go in early, but I will be there at 4:00.  I'm sure it won't be as busy as Saturday or Monday will be, but because of its proximity to those days, it will be busier than normal (plus, the amateurs tend to come out on Sunday's).

Monday, I am opening the restaurant again at 11:30, and then we get the crazy Valentine's Day hit.  This will be a 5:00 to 11:00 ass-whiping of turning two-tops.  I'm most certainly looking at 13 to 14 hours here.  With the passing of Valentine's, it basically marks the end of our busy season, which really starts after Thanksgiving.  It isn't like our business drops off to a crawl (although there is some of that in the summertime), but it will slow down a bit. 

Good thing I'm done, though, right? Wrong.  Because Tuesday I go in, at 11:30, and manage until closing that night.  13-14 hours to be certain.  If you've paid attention, the 5-day work week from Friday (6 hours), Saturday (likely 12 hours), Sunday (probably only 4-5 hours), Monday (likely 12 hours), and Tuesday (likely 12-14 hours) I'll have worked 44-50 hours of on my feet all day, running around getting people drinks and listening to complaints. 

All while you are at home, doing home improvement projects, playing with the kids, and going to the lake.  So while you are enjoying your weekend, remember those who are waiting on you when you are going out.  And if you need a little reminder on how "well" you should remember them, go back and read this post.  Maybe I'll pop into your jobs on Wednesday.

Nope

Today, I did not enjoy being a manager...

I won't bore you with the details, but it is mostly inventory stuff that won't match, which is going to cause me to go in tomorrow on my day off to try to figure it out, making mistakes that were stupid, and then my fingers hitting the wrong button on the credit card machine and almost wiping out the whole night's charges.

I'm in an extremely grumpy mood.  Good thing I've got tomorrow off... oh, wait... no I don't...

Shit.

Funny, and I laughed, but when I walked away, I'm not sure if I should have...

Saturday night, I had a table of 3 people.  They were in their 40's, and as the meal went on, I began to realize that it was two brothers and their sister.  They were all very nice, but there was one of the brothers who was obviously driving the meal.

This happens sometimes, where one person takes charge of the table.  Sometimes, but not always, this is the person that will be paying the bill, and you like to try to make sure that this person is happy all the way through the meal.

I'm pretty sure this gentleman was happy.

One of his moves to take charge of the table came early, when he asked me if we had a nice lobster tail.  I described our lobster in the most glowing terms possible, and he said "Why don't you get one of those going, have them cut it up, so we can have it as an appetizer."  It is always nice when someone does this, because that is a $60 dollar appetizer, which really helps the PPA.

It takes about 20 minutes, but once the lobster came out to the table, and they'd had a couple of bites, I stopped by and asked how the lobster was tasting.

"Well, I just came in my pants," said the man in charge.

Well, I laughed, of course, because it was pretty funny, but it was VERY uncomfortable to be certain.  His brother and sister were visibly mortified, but they were able to move the conversation along.

Later on, after their entrees were on the table, I stopped by to check on them again and see how it was.

"Well, I'll put it this way," said the man, "I'm hard again." 

He said it loudly and with no concern for who heard him.  All I could muster was a "Very good, sir" and walked away.

This is probably one of those things that should be on my list of things that you shouldn't say to your server, but I'm pretty sure I won't run across this one again, so I guess it is ok.  But a future note, if you like the food, say so, but if the level of your enjoyment reaches orgasmic heights, keep it to yourself.

And the bathroom is over there.

Well, today's the day

New Year's Eve.  It is the busiest day of the year at work.  Let me see if I can put it in perspective.  On a busy Saturday night, we typically break 300 covers, that is the number of people that come in the door and eat a meal.  On Christmas Eve, we did 400 covers, and it was apparently very busy. 

As of Wednesday we had 566 covers already on the books.  That won't include people who will try to walk in and will, mostly unsuccessfully, try to get a table.  It is going to be a crazy night.  It is always profitable, but by the time you are done you feel like you've been through the ringer. 

I really don't know what I'll do afterward... Sometimes I get out of work at after 1:00 AM, sometimes it is more like 11:00 or so.  It just depends on the tables you get.  And so, that is what I have ahead of me tonight.

I want to wish all my readers a very happy new year.  I've only been blogging for about 6 months, but it  has already provided me a more amazing outlet than I could have imagined.  And it has provided me with new friends that I wouldn't have had otherwise.  Here's hoping that the next year is as rewarding as this one has been.

I'll talk to you again after I've gotten some sleep tomorrow.