79,200...

I have amnesia, table amnesia that is. I get caught at it on a regular basis. Now, if you come in and start by ordering your cran and soda. Or remind me about your Raymond Reserve, tell me you're a vegetarian. Something anything, than I might remember you.

In walked a gentlemen right before we were opening and asked for a reservation. Because they had had such a great time the night before. Now, if he had said that he loved his veal I would have had a shot in hell of remembering him. As it was he asked if I could take care of him again tonight. I said yes, of course while I'm cringing inside. I have an eight, an eleven, two VIP tables and we are booked through nine o'clock. But, sure I'll take care of your party of five.

Then I remember him. They brought in their own Caymus in the little paper bag from the wine store in town. I'm expecting something else but, it's the Special Reserve so I bring out a decanter. They followed it by the Elkhorn Pinot Noir for their main course everyone ordered either the Veal or the Lamb and all I could think was that the Pinot was a mistake. So, yep. I remember him. By food and wine. Not by their face. I should feel bad about this. Except I probably wait on thirty people a night average. Sometimes more sometimes less. So, on a six day work week that's a bit under two hundred people. So, unless you do something extraordinary or horrible the chances of my remembering a table is pretty damn slim.

Now, most of the time my VIP tables aren't a problem because Javier will tell me something that triggers a memory. Remember, they don't eat red meat, they like the Chote Du Rhone, their kid likes to listen to the piano player. Something so it at least looks like I know who they are.

I do eventually remember you. Either because you were actually funny. Truly polite, had good taste in wine, or were a PIA. But, tables remember me a hell of a lot better than I do them. If I wait on a table three or four times then they start to become familiar. Anything other than that. Probably not.

I attempted, in my head to try to count just how many people I've waited on.. Here goes. Will round down for the sake of argument.

150 a week
4 weeks a month is 600.
600 by twelve months a year 7,200 a year.
11 years would be 79,200 people.

Jesus Christ. And that's rounding down. See, I'm not a terrible person for not bothering to remember people. Out of those 79,000 maybe a hundred of those I could pick out of a crowd. People become faceless. I think the knowledge that while other people remember their meal because of a first date, birthday, whatever it is.

For me it's just another night. I've had a lot of them. I've seen more birthday parties than I can remember, worked every major holiday since I was sixteen, seen first dates, last dates, engagements, whatever. Yeah, it's special for you. Restaurants are a great place. But, for me it's a place to work. Just the reality.

Anybody else have this problem?