Make it Count

So for those of you who do not know...

I am hanging up my manager hat.

I have wanted to teach for a long time, and I think that now is as good of a time as any.

I have been sorting through all the reasons that I want to teach, I have doubted my decision multiple times, but have come up with the same conclusion each time.

Follow your heart...and do something that makes a difference.

That is not to say that what I do now doesn't make a difference.

It counts...I count.

As a manager we wear all sorts of hats.

The mother hat, the authoritarian hat, the nurse hat, the counselor hat, the teacher hat, and then sometimes you have to know when to take your hat off...and just be.

Each hat gives me a different feeling of importance.

I studied communications in school and am very lucky that I possess the ability to step back from a situation and see it from all sides...

***I don't always do this...but I can...don't judge me!!!***

I am an easy person to talk to...a good listener.

And I know what a difference a simple conversation can make in someone's life...and I want to make those conversations count.

I wish I could be all the hats in the world for every person in the world.

Well...maybe not every person...but most people...

I am reminded of a story I was told one time...

A man who manages for the same company I do left his position to become a pastor.

He felt like that was his calling.

After a year or so he returned...and one of his team members asked him why he returned.

His response was that he touched more peoples lives on a daily basis in the restaurant...guests and employees than he could in a church.

I get that.

When I was in school I didn't have the best example of management....as a matter of fact I thought that it was a prereq for managers to be shady slime balls.

But my mother told me that they were my teachers...my examples of what I didn't want to be.

I couldn't blame them for being bad...that was not going be my excuse to suck.

I was just going to be better.

I am better.

So as you go out into your day...your life...remember that you are wearing a hat for someone...and you are touching someone's life.

Make it Count.

don't be someone else's excuse to suck

An Unteachable Art

There is an unteachable art in which I excel.

This art cannot be taught...it cannot be learned.

You either have it hidden deep within your heart...or you don't.

This art is the art of whit...the art of rhetoric...the art of whipping your tongue so quickly between your teeth that it draws exactly the reaction you set out for.

I am thankful for this art...thankful that I possess this...and thankful that others do too.

I am thankful for debate...be it healthy or unhealthy...it is all healthy...

you must be selective in the ways you use it, and with whom...

My father always told me that it was unfair to go into a battle of whit with an unarmed man.

I am thankful for banter and jokes...

I am thankful for spoken word...

I am thankful for poetry.

Both written and spoken...especially spoken.

I am thankful for people like Joaquin Zihuatanejo.

I am thankful for his style...his flavor...

Thankful that my favorite piece of his tonight contained the phrase, "Mother Fucker..."

This art that he possesses was not taught to him.

It was only nurtured...encouraged...developed...and ROCKED!!!

What is your art...

is it natural...or was it taught to you...

Solidified

So I haven't blogged in a long time...but not for lack of material.

Oh the material runneth over...

and over...

and over...

and over!!

I just haven't had enough...

time

motivation

desire

concentration

or aspiration to relive these moments in my head, for fear that I will experience the same anxiety that engulfed me in real time.

I don't know if I have told you guys this before, but I am a head job.

and not in a good way.

When things are great with me...they are wonderful...

but when things go south...they take a nose dive...and land in a big pile of shit.

That was what happened today...

It is Tuesday...freakin Tuesday...

We played Kansas yesterday (lost...boo) and Valentines was last weekend...so tonight was supposed to be slow in theory.

Well the pinche theory was wrong.

We had some decent hours.

We did the business of a Thursday night...tonight...

we were not staffed for this...

we should have had one more person at the front door...

one more person bussing...

Luckily we had Superman in the kitchen...so we were covered there.

I knew it would be an interesting night when I saw my roster.

We use sports analogies all the time...because we operate something like a team.

Well...let's just say that my roster was all rookies...with a few exceptions.

One of our more seasoned players started be unsportsman like to another person...and all hell broke loose...

you know what...back the bus up...

who am I kidding...this night went to shit waaaaaay before that...

that was just the straw that broke the camel's back...

and my back was broken

so was my spirit...

I have known for awhile now that I may not be cut out for this...

tonight just solidified it.

What's Cooler Than Being Cool

I was in Huntsvegas the other day when Singderella told me she had a patron that was cold.

***Ok so a restaurant confession...when you ask a restaurant associate to make it warmer in a restaurant that they are already sweating in...they probably don't pass on the message***

And if they do...it is more like this, "Hey 42 wants me to ask you to turn up the thermostat because he is cold...so this is me asking you"

And then we sometimes swing by the table and ask if it is better...it is funny because many times when you swing by you have done nothing to the temperature, but just in asking they feel better.

They give you a, "Oh yes, this is much better, thanks"

but not this a hole...and I REALLY turned the thermostat up.

It actually was a bit drafty in there.

I put that bad boy up 2 degrees.

When I went by the table he had more that I cared to listen to to say, "No, I can not feel a difference. It is too cold to eat. I am just way too cold. I don't feel like you did anything. Is Smokey here? I will just have to talk to him about it. Because this is not acceptable."

Smokey is the GM

So I apologized very "genuinely" because I hate when people call rank.

"I am really sorry. I actually turned it up, but I will go turn it up some more to make you comfortable."

Then he threatened me..."Well I hope it works because if it doesn't, I am just going to have to go somewhere else to eat."

I assured him that his drama was not necessary (not in those exact words) that it would get warmer. (at that point I already felt warmer)

So I put it up 2 more degrees...and would not go any further than that...I was not trying to sweat through my pretty blue shirt.

I walked past him again, and this time I could tell a drastic change of temperature...so I know he felt it.

So I asked him if he could feel the difference.

Of course he couldn't.

"I am just going to have to talk to Smokey, because this is ridiculous. His units must not be working. I mean it is just too cold to eat. This is uncomfortable. I don't have long sleeves or a jacket so I am going to have to go somewhere else."

I was happy on the inside, but I could not let it show..."Well I hate for you to have to leave. I can feel the difference, so you should soon. We do have warmer spots in the restaurant if you just want to move tables. You are sitting under a vent."

He cut his eyes up at me and then focused in on his margarita again.

So I let him be.

And he left. Assuring me that he would be calling Smokey.

So then What's cooler than being cool?

Andre 3000 would tell you ICE COLD...but my answer is knowing Smokey...go ahead!!!

Turn Around

I went to get my nails done the other day...and what do you know...Paul is on vacation.

He goes on vacation a lot. I guess the nail business is pretty lucrative.

He told me he was going back to Vietnam to visit his family for a couple of weeks.

I was not sure if he was back or not, but it was 9am and I was up and moving...so what the heck.

I walked in and signed my name on the sheet and asked the guy, "Is Paul working?"

No, he was still on vacation...DANGIT...

I mean what were the odds...there were 20 empty chairs...lots of employees standing around...what were the chances I was going to be told to go to Laura's chair...

He told me...GO to #4, she do for you...

So I went...#15 was what I wanted to hear...that was Paul's chair...it just sounded better...

Or #18...Allan was good too...

So off to #4 I went...and what do you know...PINCHE LAURA.

I stood there for a second and weighed my options...I mean what if she had improved...or what if I went and asked for someone else...or what if she still sucked...and even worse remembered me.

I am sure she did remember me...she got clowned in front of everyone at the nail shop because of me.

So I walked back up to the front and asked him..."When does Paul come back from vacation?"

The date he told me was only two days away...I COULD WAIT...so I told him I would.

As I walked to my car and drove away I could see Laura in the front of the shop watching me...she was chuckling...I know that chuckle...I was SOOOOO glad I decided to leave.

But then I came back on the date they said and the other manager (the one who was there when Laura gave me the Tammy treatment) **reference Anjelah Johnson** told me that he was still on vacation for another week.

So I dove right in and got Rosa...who did an amazing job.

And I will see Paul Next time!!

But that time...I turned my ass around!!

Here's to you Chester

I had another guest shift in Huntsvegas tonight...so I knew I was going to have some interesting fun!!

(see below blog and you will get why)

It was actually a pretty normal night.

The Cowboys were on so their lounge area was pretty full.

Roars would occasionally fill the restaurant. It happens.

It was 3:30 and I was stoked to be there to absorb the atmosphere. (I could have done without the smoke)

There was one particular table that was brought to my attention that had been here for awhile...like hours.

They were about as country as they get. The men had on cowboy hats and were having a good old time.

They had a good bit to drink, but it was spread over 3 1/2 hours and dinner.

Based on our BAC charts they should be fine...

So about 9:30 they start ordering shots.

Round one...ok...a round of shots is sort of harmless.

Round two...hmmmmm...

Chester came to me and told me that these folks seemed to be drinking to get drunk.

This is where I have to step in.

I HATE THIS PART OF MY JOB.

It is soooooo awkward. Walking up to someone and cutting them off.

What am I gonna say?

How are they going to take it?

Am I about to get cussed out?

Am I going to get to the table and realize they are fine?

WTF?

So I walk up with their tickets....Chester said one guy wanted his...I wasn't just being rude.

When I walked up I asked how everything was tonight.

I tried to make small talk, but I don't speak football very well so I am sure it was not very convincing.

When I handed the bills the guy ordered another round of shots from me.

I told him that he could not take more than 2 shots an hour because that would put us over the limit of what we can legally serve him.

The older man in the black cowboy hat thought he would sweet talk me...and asked for another round again.

I declined and he insisted...so I too insisted that this was not what would transpire.

He then offered for me to wear his cowboy hat.

(my facebook status from last night was as so: Am I in a bad dream or something, I haven't seen this many cowboy hats in one place in my whole life)

I declined his offer.

But old man Drunkerd just knew that this offer was going to get him another round.

BOY WAS HE WRONG...

The lady with the three gentlemen seemed to be getting the drift. She asked, "Is this your polite way of kicking us out?" (at least I was being polite)

I insisted that they were not getting thrown out...they could stay as long as they like, but they couldn't get served any more alcohol.

When I finished the younger guy then resorted to lying.

He told me that he was not here for the first round of shots and that he could still order another shot.

I asked him why their were four of each shot ordered on his ticket. He had no answer for that.

So then I answered him with a hypothetical.

Yes...if you only had one shot they you may have another drink.

So he then ordered two more shots and 4 beers.

I told him that I couldn't serve him that much at the same time.

So then he tried another approach and asked me if he could drink the drink if he got another table to order it...

NO

But old man Drunkerd had a better idea.

He got up and asked me to dance...yep...in the middle of the restaurant...he called me greeny...bc I had on a green shirt, but I thought he called me granny...this guy was something

I declined the dance and told him I was no granny.

So he offered me his hat again...at this point he was standing right by me.

Before I could say anything he had it off his head and on mine.

***Kevin Ford used to call me all kinds of ugly names when I was younger such as Domer Simpson, Heady Murphy, and Thomas Headison...I am still scarred (JK)***

The hat didn't fit...so he shoved it down...and told me, "Damn, you have a big old head girl."

As if I needed to hear that from him.

I gave him my hat back when he took my ear piece off my ear. He asked me who I was talking to.

Drunk people always are intrigued by the headsets...they always want to know who is on the other end of it.

He then put the EAR part of it up to his mouth and whispered like a 4 year old...SUCK MY DICK

My mouth dropped along with the lady at the table...and ALL THE GUESTS at surrounding tables.

I took my earpiece back...and as bad as I wanted to react...I smiled at the rest of the people at the table, told them my name, and let them know that if they needed any help paying out to let me know.

OMG are you freaking kidding me...

I was flushed immediately and wanted to castrate this man and batter & fry his shit up and then make HIM eat it...

They paid and left...and although I was offered his shaft...Chester got it...

$4 on a $63 tab

OUCH

When we were walking around the corner...Chester seemed to be in decent spirits about his shaft...his words were, "I can't wait to read about this one"

You here's to you Chester!!!

Huntsvegas...Huntsvegas...Huntsvegas

So I began my night with an awareness of sorts...

I really enjoy working at this restaurant. It is nice to go get a breath of fresh air at another restaurant.

The people are all cool...and it is just nice for a change every now and again.

And the customers...oh the customers...

THEY ARE NOT THE SAME...NOT EVEN CLOSE

So being that I am from a small podunk town not far from Huntsvegas I am aware of the clientele that will be drawn to this place.

I will give you a couple of instances of the type of "folk" we are dealing with.

The first example comes by way of Buzzer...

Buzzer had a table of idiots that decided that they were going to give him the ultimate insult...

a 1 cent tip...

except the idiots only had .24 cents on the gift card

but the kicker is that they left the card

dummies

The second example was Oranganator's table...

They asked Buzzer for change...they handed him a $20

They didn't specify how they wanted it...so I broke it all the way down.

That is just the type of chick I am.

They looked up to see me sort of pointing at them...and by sort of pointing I mean that my index finger was extended in their direction...I was identifying them as natives of my homeland.

When they spoke to me across the bar I realized the extent of their home training.

They let me know they were going to leave it for her...HOW KIND

Third time is a charm right...

Roo had a table that ordered a salad.

When he delivered it to the table he moved on to take an order from the next table.

When he turned to walk back towards the kitchen he was met with a bowl in the face.

No joke...the man got up and stood behind him waiting for him to turn around to show him this salad.

The bald man with a bushy beard was not pleased with his salad...and was apparently impatient.

He told Roo that the salad leaves were wilted.

Roo got him another salad.

When he dropped it off at the table the man dug around in the salad and found another piece of less than perfect lettuce.

He dramatically asked Roo what that was he was serving him...

***DISCLAIMER***

I was not present for this...Roo told the story...and did it so well that I am feeling writers remorse at my inability to stand up to his reenactment. Roo...feel free to comment some verbatims for us!!!

***DISCLAIMER END***

Roo is pretty quick on his toes so I am sure there were about 13,359 things that he wanted to answer him with...

but loving his job ; )...he was polite instead.

The man went on to tell him that it must have been a bad batch of lettuce....

and then decided he was leaving...

This is normally where I would have gotten involved and done something really nice to get him to stay, but it all happened so fast that I didn't even get a chance to get involved.

Huntsvegas...Huntsvegas...Huntsvegas