rock fight

this is a college town, and this is commencement time. over 4-5 weekends, it begins with northeastern and ends with harvard/m.i.t. this weekend is the big daddy, when b.u. and b.c. both play "pomp & circumstance". may is now second only to christmas/new year's for revenue in the local hospitality industry. nearly $8 million is spent on hotel rooms and most restaurants add 25% to their sales. multiple generations flock to the city to bask in junior's glow. they fill the hotels, shop til they drop and have celebration dinners. frankly, it's brutal, but much like the pain of childbirth, it's a fresh hell every time. (however, a few years back, these graduations coincided with mother's day and that is an agony that will live within me forever.)

last year i was hired, but had yet to start working with this company. the city is overflowing with too many people too loud, lost and slow-moving, so i skipped going into town.

thursday night, aware of what we faced, i met with this g.m. and was told his philosophy of how to build a $100,000 weekend. then i saw it go live friday.

for those of you unaware, before service, we look at the reservations and plot where each party will sit. it's an imperfect science, and we have a rule of thumb as to table turn-times, yet are wary enough to make a plan b if the goldbergs or the o'haras decide to make a night of it. it gets sticky with groups larger than 6 -- people tend to arrive separately, somebody is always late, it takes forever to get their food orders because they are busy catching up, then customizing their meals, and you feel the clock ticks in your brain and the tension mounting as the waiting time soars, and reservations run later. it's kind of a rush, but you're also getting your head chewed off by folks who have been cooling their heels in the bar for an imagined eternity. yelling at me will not make those other people get up, ya know? and if you walk out to go elsewhere, you're shit out of luck, because every place else is sold out too.

there is always a conflict here between owners and managers. we know enough to over-book, because the no-show rate is higher than normal, but you also don't want a lounge full of pissed-off starving people whose table time went out the window, all swearing they will never return, and still fuming when they finally do sit. the owners want more money than last year. it's 3 days. we live through it.

this g.m. made his floor plan for friday. he plotted any groups larger than 6 -- they take at least 2 tables and big big rezzies may take 4 or 5 tables out of play -- so, yeah, you do those first. he made no allocations for parties less than 5. he said, "those guys are all one-timers and will never be back. i don't give a shit if they have to wait, or for how long." he also figured lightning-speed turn times, that he admitted were unrealistic. i was stunned. it is the antithesis of everything i have ever learned or done in a nearly 20-year career. he instructed the hostesses to accept any and all comers and tell them the wait was about 45 minutes. he refused to comp drinks or apps to mollify anybody.

he appointed me floor manager -- the one that would put out the fires -- while he stayed in the kitchen. in short order, i was roseanne rosannadanna. " i thought i wazza gunna die." for 5 hours, i got pummelled. of course, the kitchen went down. it had to, having been set up to fail by this gm. tickets got lost, orders got mixed up, food took forever. half the food that went out looked like shit. most of the waiters were in so far over their heads, i actually felt sorry for them. one girl cried and a few more certainly wanted to. the chef got in a fist fight after his shift.

it was the worst graduation night i have ever worked.

the gm was thrilled because we rang $25k. he did not give rat's ass about how things went. "it is what it is."

last night i asked to expedite, which i hate, but i simply could not be *out there* again. at the end, the executive chef told me i was way better at it than the gm, lol, and i only swore at one waiter who was inept beyond redemption. any other night, i would have sent him home. i can't even imagine the horrible night his tables must have had. i wanted to wring his fat sweaty neck when i heard him bitching about his crappy tips. don't you get it? jeebus.

just one more tonight. it's a gorgeous day outside. i am off tomorrow. i have resumes in the pipe-line. it's just dinner, and it ain't my dime.