One of those Nights.

So, I get told that I'm taking the 'forties' tonight. This is two booths and then four long tables. I'm taking them because they're an eighteen top of VIP PIA. Javier, the manager warns me that they're a pain in the ass and a really difficult table. that they're here every year and that they always have two separate tables for adults and kids. I remember them from last winter in my other dining room. And I remember that Grandma palmed me a hundred bucks on top of the thirty percent tip. I'm thrilled!!

They are difficult. Not on purpose they just have a ton of small requests. Every time I turn around one of the kids needs a ginger ale. Grandpa wants another bottle of Merlot and grandma wants me to pour the Pinot Grigio for one of her daughters. One of those tables when they are enough all on their own without other tables. I had other tables. A four top drinking eighty dollar a bottle Champagne. And a deuce who were unhappy with their table and wanted one by the window. I explained it would be about an hour and a half until one of them is available. I ring in the order for the large party complete with six different substitutions or SDR's. I know my kitchen is going to be pissed. I also know that this table gets what they want. So, there's no point asking for permission before I ring everything in. Ticket times got backed up out of the kitchen.

At one point there was about sixty covers fired at once. My eighteen, another servers dozen and a fourteen top a handful of six tops and a few smaller tables. Kitchen was bombed enough that my Sous chef asked me to give his new line cooks a shot of tequila at the end of the night. I sweet talked the bartender into double Quervos.

My deuce was on the end of a very long board. I ring in their order late. Hoping to close the gap between first courses and entrees. But, Javier brought out their salads before I had intended to. A few minutes later when I know their order is at least fifteen minutes out of the kitchen I bring them cups of soup with the 'chef's compliments' and explain that they're food is going to be awhile. I have learned that if they think it's from the server then they like me but, if they think it's from the Chef the Restaurant gets the credit. The Restaurant gets the credit they feel better about the experience as a whole and the tip is better. Try it some time. Whether it's a free glass of wine, appetizer or complimentary dessert. Site a source higher up then you. Make them think that somebody other than their frazzled server is paying attention to them and want to make them happy.

Tonight I never bothered to even approach the line for an ETA on any entrees. I can guess the time frame based on the chits on the board and what side of the fire that they're on. I didn't ask I kept my mouth shut and waited my turn.

At the dessert call for my eighteen I split it up between the kid table and the adult. As I'm setting down the kids desserts the teenager on the end throws her hands in the air. My chocolate fondue plate.. fruit, cookies, cake and a big ramekin full of Grenache fly everywhere. Grandma See's everything so I don't even have to pretend to take the blame and tells the grand daughter to get down on the floor and help me clean it up. The only thing worse than being on the floor trying to wipe up thick warm chocolate? Having a teenager on the floor with me.

Bud, however storms into the back as I was getting coffee service together for my four top, throws his book against the wall and does a bit of screaming. Enough that the pantry girl, easily the loudest unhappiest girl in the house says that he needs to calm down. He's kicking at the wall. Part of me wants to help and part of me wants to put him in the corner until he gets control of himself again. Yeah, it was hard. Yeah he didn't feel like he was doing as well as he should have. But, still get a grip.

Poor Ginger had the last table of the night. The woman orders the Veal, but wants steamed veggies. It's fifteen minutes before were closed. The Sous Chef is not a happy guy tonight. He says yes he'll do steamed veg. She rings in the order. Out come the little vegetable medley, carrots, green beans, and onion. The lady meant green vegetables. and see's Escarole on another plate and wants that. So, Ginger rings in a side. as she's taking out a different entree the woman see's the spinach on the plate and wants to change to that. Ginger runs to the line and begs for a substitution. and then the damn Veal was actually Pork. Not her fault, the kitchen did it.

To end the night she ends up picking up cocktails at the bar while her table that had left is staring her down. The man, sixty five if he's a day approaches Ginger and asks her to join him for a drink when she's off of work. Now, gross. Ginger's not even thirty yet and she's pretty damn sure that the woman sitting next to him was his wife. She says that the bars will be closed before she's off of work.

I had a single diner who never looked up from the table when I approached him. My leg was killing me. Due to the cold and the long hours so I turn the table over to Anita after his second glass of wine and his entree is done. Just the dessert and coffee call and then the check. She approaches the table three times asking how everything is going. On her fourth visit he says that he's waiting for 'Rosey'. She explains that I've left the floor for the evening but she'd be happy to get him anything he would like. He says that he would like me back.

I swear the guy never looked at me. Had he I would have finished him myself I honestly didn't think he'd notice who was waiting on him. Anita takes his dessert order and comes into the back where I'm wading through eight racks of glassware that need to be polished. And lets me know that 'One' is in love with me and maybe I should go out there... I'm not going. The guy was weird, I don't feel like anymore weird tonight.

So, there's my evening. I sit with Bud as were polishing tonight and give him one of my favorite mantras that I have running in my head.

There is one thing about Restaurants. There is a starting point and an ending point. No matter what happens in between opening and closing it will eventually be over.