A dying breed.

the professional waiter. Now, this used to be a contradiction in terms to me. Way back when I thought I was going to write the great american novel or win a pulitzer. But, these days this is what I do. I happen to do it well. I understand what it is to work in a restaurant what it takes to make it successful. I am a professional. I don't sparkle in a dining room. I am not a big haired big lipped loud giggly waitress. I don't sound or behave like your second cousin. I am a server. I pour a perfect glass of wine. I always remember to resilver you're table between courses. I will go into an explanation as to why filet mignon extra well done is a bad idea. In general If you are willing I will help you 'dine' in my restaurant.





these days life isn't going so well. My manager has been kicked out of the country. He is now biding his time in Northern Brazil waiting for the embassy to decide whether or not he'll be allowed in. He is not one of my favorite people, I like him well enough but most days by the end of the night I'm heading towards the opposite lounge to have a drink that he is going to. But, he knows his shit. I miss this. I miss not thinking about what is being looked over, put off and generally ignored. Wine ordering, polishing, deep cleaning, menu's being checked for accuracy. Server stations, proper rotation, sidework. I miss the guy who's standing at attention making sure that everything is done.





I am now the one. It happens in restaurants. I told a friend of mine recently promoted to Chef of a dining room who's concerned about not having a sous chef. My advice is to hire away. Pay what you're allowed to pay. It won't be long before whoever that person in your kitchen who is going to have you're back shows up. Becomes apparent those dynamics occur organically. The best working relationships happen that way. I regress, I am now the one. I worry about linens, liners for plates, having enough sangiovese to get through the weekend. I worry about the floor maps, the count on tarts, the list goes on and on. the only difference? I'm paid by tips. I make my money on the floor. Once service starts, i'm not paid or told to worry about all of the extra shit that isn't my job. But, if it's no thought up it's not going to be done.





Or i'll hear my favorite phrases.. "we can do it later when we have time". Now, really. When is there ever convenient times in a dining room. It does not exist. If you don't rip it off fom areas that shouldn't be neglected it's never going to happen.





"good enough for now" what does that mean exactly? good enough is a contradiction in terms. Like shaving one of your legs and then walking on the opposite side of your friend based on what direction you're going.





I understand that i'm a bit on the anal side of things. I like to know that things are cleaned orderly, organized. I like knowing where everything is going to be and then being able to find it. I liked stocked shelves. I like knowing the experation dates on cartons of cream. I like knowing that the wines are kept in their temperature controlled closets. What sometimes confuses me is the line of when I'm being unreasonable in my expectations and when other people are lazy slackers. I can't always tell. So I bite my tongue bide my time and go in for self appointed chores on my day off. But damn it the closets need to be 86ed and nobody else wants to do it. Am I going crazy or just responding to lax standards that don't make me feel like a nineteen year old boy going to a frat party but rather like a grad student that's just bought four hundred dollars worth of text books that has decided to flunk out.



I am a professional. And i've learned a bit of a lesson. I want something more. I think I need something more. A way for me to put my spin on things.