A ridiculously busy night. Almost a full turn, once we had the staff, now, not so much. And once we had the competence, of F***** and G***, now, not so much. It's a shitshow.
We've begun pandering to the worst of clienteles. Split bills? No Problem...Order off the menu? OF course...Bring in your own birthday cake, wine? Why not?
Back in the day that never would have happened. 5 large parties, not one chose a set menu. The kitchen, they're crushed, the separate cheques, it ties you up an easy 30 minutes after the meal, our computer is old, it's not set up for that at all. And we have to take them, business is slow, madness this 0 to 100 miles per hour overnight, we're turning people away, try to guess a reason? Concert? Recent Press? No reason, it's just the seventh wave, we've let in the wrong people, wouldn't have needed any of the parties if we'd have taken the smaller tables, would have done better even, the tipping would have been better, everyone would have been better served, the kitchen, it's a killing field, the owner, can't turn away business but he's gotten used to it being slow, the early departures, he's no more ready for this than we are...Pasta Fiesta, no two meals the same, 20 people, 20 pans, 1 Chef, it's too much, small fuck ups - an Asian lady ordering the Scallopine when she meant to say Scallops, he's through the roof, redirecting his wrath at the nephew, anyone handy, he wants me to have a happy ending as well...
The new salad girl (we have 3 since the old one left), she's asking about getting a job as a server...she has no experience, but she wants out of the kitchen, I don't blame her, I'm leaving, why not, but I warn her to lobby slow - start as a busgirl or expediter - this job, it isn't brain surgery, but see how many people do it badly and you appreciate there must be some sort of skill to it...
Sunday, a full day to recover from the Madness of Saturday night, exhausted, spiritually and otherwise, I'm hanging in by a thread...
Time passes. 3 Weeks to go. I'm counting them...