Restaurant Gal

Month: September 2006

  • Things That Really Matter

    My no-good-very-bad-day at work. Doesn’t matter. My upset about anything work related. Doesn’t matter. My having made a new friend. Matters. My very dear friend’s son arriving home from Iraq, after seven months. Really matters. Some days, you only have to look at one degree of separation to get it. Welcome Home, Pat! You have…

  • Corner Turned…I Think

    I know, I know. Enough of the angst, the doubts, the chaos. The moods. Give us stories! I hear ya. I just don’t have them, yet, because I am trapped on a treadmill of battling the other assistant manager and sous chefs for computer time, doing payroll, trying to put together private event information, and…

  • Mad World

    The Mood is none too subtle. It starts with a stride, continues with a hard pull on the door handle, and ends with a set to the jaw. Maybe even a twitch in the lower cheek. I speak of myself. I speak of Chef. I speak of my GM. All around me are familiar faces.…

  • Who’s Laughing Now?

    I could have been home by 11:30 p.m. tonight. I had my blotter parking sticker in my pocket at 11 p.m. The night was young, in its way. But I didn’t go home. Instead, I found my favorite former manager at my former restaurant, just as he was getting off work. “I’ll drive you to…

  • Receipts Don’t Lie

    You can tell a lot from your credit card receipts–where you’ve been, what you bought, what was fun, what was a necessity. I log all of our receipts into Quicken. Have done that for years. Sometimes, these records provide a brief glimpse into a painful moment in history. On 9/10/2001, for example, I know Mr.…

  • TGIS

    The first full week of dinner service is done. Not too shabby. Numbers steadily rose throughout the week. Great night tonight, er, Saturday night. Now that it’s officially Sunday, I realize I’ve already started my day off! My day off to pay bills, ponder the laundry, and walk for miles–rain or shine, I don’t care.…

  • And So It Begins…

    “Well, everything was FINE,” sneered the leggy blond beauty in the little black dress and strappy heels to the bartender in the lounge as she and her shorter, dark and handsome beau began their gotta-be-seen saunter out of the restaurant. “I mean, FINE, except the chef didn’t come to our table to say hello, even…

  • And on the Sixth Day, the Regulars Dined

    Whenever Restaurant Gal Son calls me and starts the conversation with, “So, uh…” I am suspicious. This conversation could go anywhere, from: “So, uh, what was the name and phone number of that attorney you said I might need someday?” to “So, uh, I don’t know, I may take the LSAT. You know, just to…

  • Unexpected Expectations

    The couple at table 319 expected to have a romantic, perfect dinner. Instead, she pouted, not because she didn’t like her dinner, but because her husband didn’t expect the type of menu we served. I alerted my GM that they needed another touch, and he promptly served two flutes of champagne to them. She still…

  • I’m a Night Owl Now

    Not so very long ago, The Gal considered a late night as one that involved going to a hockey game and grabbing drinks afterward. You know, home by midnight–and that felt REALLY late. Now that I keep more “varied” hours, I am noticing a few things I’ve missed over the years. The past seven days…