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Notice
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- Written by: Rod Boyle
- Category: Blog
- Hits: 582
Last week, Thursday, give my notice.
Another job, smaller place, closer to home, less hours, every reason, really, I need to recapture my life. Managing and serving.
I explain it, without blame, and he gets it, accepts the surface explanation because the other explanation - the other one I'm pretending doesn't exist, that "Golly Gee Whiz I love working 12 and 13 hours a day", frame it as an "I'll miss the hours..." - but I won't, lets be real, who would?
He's got a tear in his eye, Sr., we got along well enough, but - enough is enough. And the place was running me ragged, run, run, run, until you drop of a heart attack or old age, with little to no help whatsoever.
It's done.
Jr, he finds out from his father. He shows up Friday, "Just in the nick of time" 6:00 - time to work out the dinner rush. He congratulates me, it's a good fit, wishes me well and all that - but he's curt, short, something in him's broken. He thought I'd be the restaurant donkey forever. Now the grim realization that he might have to do some work.
The next couple days, forced civility, but he's lackluster, I understand, he feels betrayed, but - fuck, I need my life back. To pay the rent I'm paying and never be in town, never have time for a coffee or friends or a book, film, play - well - it's taken it's toll. Saturday he opens, does a little rush, then goes on cleaning binge. Cleaning everything - his Mom is coming home. I ask him why all the cleaning - he tells me: "I want to impress my Mom with everything I've done". In my mind I heard "Mommy" but I'm pretty sure it was Mom. He's 33.
He's there for the dinner rush and then knocks off early, he wants to go and visit a friend. I can close the place up.
Sunday, the same. He opens, late, does a bit of work then knocks off. Goes out to help his dad build a fence. Go's upstairs to visit his Mom. Sits down with customer to discuss politics and his life experience for an hour. Tries to ingratiate himself with a customer that doesn't particularly like him, but gets along with me, and now - since it's his show - his and his alone - he's got to make peace with a lot of people that would rather he stayed away...
Then, before you know it it's 5:00 and he's got to be off, back to ... - I can handle the night by myself. He checks to ensure I'll be in next week - he's got a birthday, his, his wife's, their anniversary, wants to make sure I'm around so he doesn't have to work - and I'm thinking - fuck - I'm thinking he did nothing but fuck around all day and didn't even have time to offer me a lunch break and now he's fucking off.
Sunday night, busy, but I survive, and I'm thinking, wondering - how the fuck did I last as long as I did?
But - it's done, the die is cast and I'm moving on and I'm surprised at my initiative, rarely have I ever looked for a better job when I've had one already, but - just as things can always get worse I'm starting to realize that things can also get an awful lot better...
The Vaccine Passports
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- Written by: Rod Boyle
- Category: Blog
- Hits: 477
And, while on the topic of "Rule Breakers" we're on to the Vaccine Passports.
Restaurants, in town, they're following the rules or changing their service model. A few of the cafes and restaurants are back to doing take-out only, unwilling to ask their customers for their passport.
Out at ... well, it's Dodge city. There's no clear direction from the owners, "Go through the motions", but - ...
But...
Monday, easily half our customers are unvaxxed. If I asked to see papers I'd kill the business. And so I play by the rules the owners want me to play by, but this is tricky.
I don't want to piss off our good customers, our regulars, I don't want to be the bearer of bad tidings, throw anyone out, not for THAT anyways, I'm so fucking tired of the whole thing - who isn't? And I never want to hear another persons facebook-informed science opinion ever again. But this ignoring it - it's not going to work either.
Now - I've started the other job, a completely different clientele that I don't know, and these people, I'm fine with asking them. I haven't the same relationship, the same investment. I get why so many people are quitting their jobs over this. A restaurant staffing shortage already - every restaurant in the city, on the lake - 50, 60% understaffed, and people are quitting over it.
Anyways, anyways, the days are long but there's only 5 shifts left, 12 hours a day, dodge and duck my way through them...
"Are you dog-friendly?"
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- Written by: Rod Boyle
- Category: Conversations
- Hits: 582
A question which comes up far too often, which you're to interpret as "Are you willing to break all of health-Canada's rules to accommodate my pet..."
The answer is always, unequivocally "NO". We hear it all - "Emotional Support Animals" and "But she/he's so cute/well behaved/gentle/etc, etc."
I imagine asking them if they'd mind my waiving the rule that requires me to wash my hands after shitting. Why not? Rules are made to be broken. Or the rules around storing and preparing food? Leave that fish out on the counter for a day or so - we'll feed it to our rule-breaking customers.
Rules are rules. Pets, like children, are rarely as they're described, and the law forbids having them in the restaurant or on the patio. The only exceptions are recognized "Service" Dogs, which have an orange vest to identify them. We do concede they can dine on the beach with their pet - we have picnic tables, and if not too busy we'll serve down there - but ....
The dog, it's a foot in the door - a way of getting people to break one rule so you can break a few more, rules regarding good manners, tipping, etc, etc. You give in to them on this one small thing and always you'll regret it - the "Are you dog friendly?" is a flag for someone you most certainly don't want to serve, it's the tip of the iceberg for someone who is most probably a celiac, needs honey and soya or almond milk with their caffeine-free tea, the list goes on and on....
The Demons of Proctor
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- Written by: Rod Boyle
- Category: People
- Hits: 703
For such a small community it's spawned more than it's share. There's a portal there, for sure, that leads directly to the pits of hell.
"Bobbi" is one of their demons, a proper internet Karen, forever complaining - in the least pleasant terms imaginable, about any and everything. We've considered banning her, merely waiting the appropriate time.
She comes in with a couple of our regulars - an old waitress and her friend. Lovely people, good customers, tippers.
This isn't good. You can't bar her now - although they both know she can be a handful, still they've chosen to hang out with her.
So - not my table, not my problem, and she finds fault with something and goes off on the server. Properly off, although I'm not there to witness I can see by how flustered he is that things aren't going well, and by the end he's of my mind to bar her.
The next night the waitress she was out with is there with her family for dinner. Bobbi comes in, ignores her, picks up a to-go order. I point out that M***** is there, but she chooses not to acknowledge her.
The incident is forgotten, Bobbi comes in with other guests, forever we're forestalling barring her.
Then C**** - the other guest/friend from the night of her blow-up, comes in with an explanation.
This is good.
After Bobbi's little explosion on her server she went to the washroom. While in the washroom she left her phone on the table, set to record. And so she later listened how inexcusably ruder her behavior was, and then barred her friends.
When I say people are demons, and people choose to ignore me, they do so at their peril...
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