Thursday, May 31, 2007

Grandma Time

While looking over the other blogs I frequent, I was saddened at the loss of Restaurant Gal's grandmother. Not only is it terribly sad to lose a grandparent, it's an unwanted reminder of the cruel passing of time. My main reason for leaving South Florida, besides the rude-ass people, was to be with my father. I would never forgive myself if I didn't try to be closer to him, physically and emotionally. I haven't spoken to my mother in around six years, and I'd be damned if I wouldn't keep in close contact with the one parental unit I was still on speaking terms with. It's a long, convoluted story, one I may eventually share here. Then again, maybe not. Time will tell, if I have enough of it.

Tuesday, May 29, 2007


It seems the more blogs I read, the more I feel unworthy, but then I snap myself out of it and try to mine the untold stories stored in my head. Coming up, more tales of the absurd...

If I had a dollar for every application I've had tossed my way, I'd own Google. It never ceased to amaze me the variety of people who came in to my assorted restaurants to apply.

In North Miami Beach, one of my Assistant Manager peers took a call from a teen half-way house, and instead of getting all the info on their charges, basically told them to send everyone in for an interview. True, we needed bussers in a bad way, but, Jeez, this was something. All these poor kids came in the same outfit: ill-fitting white shirts; cinched pants, two sizes too large; spit shined shoes; desperate eyes darting around our fine establishment. I later learned that the only way out of their boot-camp-like existence was to hold a job for six weeks. All were African-American, and all were polite to a T. I would have hired a couple if they had been over 18. I needed bussers who could stay longer at night than they were allowed to. They had to be back in camp by 9pm, and that being South Florida, that's the height of business. There was one kid in particular that broke my heart. Obviously ex-gang, his whole face was covered in tattoos. I was pretty non-plussed talking to him without staring. How would he ever get any job dealing with the public? This poor kid was destined to have crap jobs the rest of his life. He was so polite, but then, they all were. They all tried so hard, but there was no way I could hire any of them, they'd have to leave at the beginning of our dinner rush. If my dufus co-worker had taken two minutes to ask a few questions of the case-worker, it would have saved me a couple hours time, since he wasn't scheduled to be there the day of the interviews ( How Convenient!).

Sunday, May 27, 2007

Job Transfers for the Man

Any Manager in a chain restaurant will tell you, if they ask you to transfer, JUST SAY NO! When they ask you, they imply that turning them down may hinder your future "promotablility". Bullshit! It's the ones that transfer that ruin their chances at the desirable GENERAL MANAGER post. Believe me, I know first hand.

After many years in the business, I accepted a position with a large Italian chain, who shall heretofore be know as "Linguini Bistro", LB for short. After three short months with said chain in Michigan, my Area Manager pulled me aside for a chat. Finally, I thought, a real sit down with the man! Hey, Assistant Manager (for the rest of this post referred to as Gullible, or G for short), we really, really need help in New York. They can't seem to get decent help, and you're doing so well here, it would really be good for your future to voluntarily transfer. Not to mention, Michigan's economy is in the toilet, so we're not gonna build anymore here, and GM's don't leave very often, and, hey, I hear you'd like to eventually end up in Florida. If you do this, you'll move up the list of all the dozens of Asst. Mgrs. who want to go to the promised land of Florida. Needless to say, I took the bait.

After eleven months in the Hell Hole that was Long Island, I was approached again. Hey, G, we need another strong, experienced AM to help open a new store in Massachusetts, would you like to go? Hells, yeah! After two fruitful and enjoyable years in Mass., along came the spider again. Hey, G, that store you want to go to in Florida is pushed back for another year, would you like to help us out again? We have a problem store in Chattanooga, Tennessee, that needs your type of hands-on help. Seven months later...Hey, G, that store in Florida is put back another 6 to 9 months, how about going to another store in Florida, only in Ft.Myers, until yours is ready? Sure, says G, only too ready to help his benefactors. Six weeks later, North Miami Beach needs help. How neat would that be, G? Land of Gloria Estefan and Shaq! Eleven months later, hey, G, we've decided to sell this property for a gazillion dollars, so we're shutting it down. Oh, so you'll have to move again, and by the way, that store in Florida that you wanted to go to, well, you're not on the team, because your present GM doesn't like you. He says all the problems are your fault, and everything that went right was because of him, but we'll find another store that will take you. I couldn't write my 2-weeks notice any faster if I was the Flash.

When you move that often for a company, you never establish any long-term results. That gives them every opportunity to keep you down. All the Area Directors want to promote "their guys", not someone brought in to help their failing stores. Guess thats my fault for not sucking enough ass. Oh well, my conscience is clean. And I believe in kharma. And I believe that's what has led me to my new, perfect job. And I repeat, it's Monday thru Friday, 40 hours a week, all holidays off. Finally, my kharma payback.

Learning from the pros

I've immersed myself this past week reading other blogs, to better understand, and to better myself. Some I've been truly impressed and humbled by. Others, not so much. There's one everyone should read, she's such a nice person, and truly has a solid head on her shoulders, Restaurant Girl. Literally, hours have been spent going through her entire archive. Funny and thoughtful, I wish I had worked with her while I was still in the "biz". Now, I'll just be the pesky salesman bugging her to speak to the GM, or maybe herself, if I lived in her city (probably Boston, not sure, though). Take some time and learn the ins and outs of Hostdom, and cheer her on when she gets a new job as an Assistant Manager at a new start-up.

Friday, May 25, 2007

MMMMoving On

All is well with the world. I start my new job on the 1st. I won't go broke waiting, well, maybe a little. Nothing I can't handle.

You know, I've spent a lot of time this past week scoping out all the restaurant blogs out there, and there's quite a few. Be it from waiters, waitresses, back of the house, person is happy. And believe me, I scoured the nets. Not a single person is happy with their lot in life. And I know why. No matter what we tell ourselves, that one bitch will ruin our night. If we had 100 guests, and 99 left happy, that one will poison the entire day. Everyone deserves to have a whole day, nay, a week or more, of work that we think benefits everyone. There's that little voice in the back of our heads that says, "Well, you made 1000 people happy, but there was that one table that left saying they'd never come back." You could work in that industry for 100 years, and you'd never go a whole week pleasing everyone. That sounds pretty self-defeating to me. I wish I'd gotten out of it a whole lot earlier. What a weight that is lifted from my shoulders. True, every job has it's pitfalls, but the restaurant industry is the WORST.

Now, I can go enjoy my week-ends, holidays, and evenings like a "normal" person. It may take some getting used to being a regular person with a life.

Oh, and the champagne was mahvelous! With a little Chambord, of course.

Wednesday, May 23, 2007

O.K. Here Goes

So, there's a picture now. Not a new picture. About 15 pounds heavier than I am now. And I'm smiling, even though I'm feeling sickly. A week later the doctor said I had Cryptosporidia, a rare bug. Funny story now (at the time not so funny). I was terribly nauseous, which made riding the Trip to Mars ride not so much fun (two weeks later a 10-year old boy died on the ride), it's that stomach churning. Anyways, after seeing the doctor and leaving a stool sample (a good 2 paragraphs there), I receive a letter in the mail on Friday from the Florida Department of Health telling me to call about a serious matter. Being as though I got my mail around mid-night, and the Department of Health has week-ends off, I was on pins and needles until I could call first thing Monday morning. Although I've always been the safest of safe regarding everything sexual, I started to question myself. The lady on the phone asked me a million questions, going through a list of dozens of items I've been in contact with over the last month. They never called me back. The next week, there was an article in the paper about the crypto outbreak in Florida and they linked it to fresh basil. Hell, I was a manager at an Italian restaurant at the time, so that makes sense. So why not call and inform those people who you've questioned? That's how I got those extra grey hairs in my goattee, I guess.

UPDATE: Picture gone, sorry, I chickened out again. Maybe, if I had a good pic, I'd show it.

Mission Accomplished (My Version)

Well, sweeties, I got the job! A real-live, Monday thru Friday, 40 hours a week, honest-to-God, get-a-life, job. No more Mother's Day fiascos, no late night hanger-ons, no holidays period. After decades in the infernal restaurant business, I will now sell to them instead. At the same salary. Looking at it hourly, that's a raise of about 75 - 100%. The champagne is in the fridge chilling as I type.

Now I can celebrate the upcoming Memorial Day holiday in the appropriate, celebratory way. Being a Veteran, I will pray for the souls of my comrades (both gay and straight), who gave their lives so that I could write what I want to write, and say what I want to say. Being a gay man, I will head to Pensacola Beach and look at all the mens.

Life is good once again.

Thanks to my two commenters. I hope you come back, cause I got a lot to say. And if you read my posts and didn't comment, no problem, maybe next time! Sometime in the future I'm going to put up an e-mail address, so you can write to me independent of the blog. That should be interesting.


Sunday, May 20, 2007


One of my worst restaurant experiences ever happened in South Florida, North Miami Beach (Aventura) to be exact. We'll call it "Chin's Chinese Bistro" wink-wink. It was an everyday type of day, but there was a table of four African-American women who came in around 5:00pm. The waitress came up to me after the order was placed. Many exotic drinks were ordered, along with 7 entrees (many with modifiers) amongst the four women. The server was concerned, as she should be, about the number of entrees ordered, and the demeanor of the "ladies".

As any frequentor of "Chin's" knows, if you order that many entrees, they will not all come at once. Well, as soon as I got the warning, I went to the table to let the "ladies" know it might not all come at once, since we don't want the food to sit and "die in the window".

Well, you can see where this is leading. Out of the seven entrees, two came out wrong (not really since they didn't read the menu), so while those were being re-cooked, they all sat there and looked at the rest of the food going cold. Now, normal guests serve themselves family-style, and pass around the plates so everyone can sample everything, but these "ladies" sat there and stared at all this food going cold. Well, of course when the 2 "mis-cooked" orders came out, they complained that the rest of their food was cold. So of course, I went to the table and grabbed the plates that were there and told them that we'd heat it right up for them. While that was happening, they sat there and stared at the two hot plates like they were radioactive. The now hot plates were returned and of course they bitched. That was all I could take, so I excused myself to get the GM. She went to the table and tried to help them, but she couldn't take the bitches either. She told them to either accept the food or leave. They sat there and called the Area Director, who being a wuss, told them they were correct. Long story short, they got all 7 entrees (for 4 people) and their drinks for free, along with $100 in certificates. Altoghether, they received about $170 in free food. But that wasn't enough, they sat there for 2 hours and harangued us all about what a rotten experience they had, and we couldn't say anything, because the Area Manager told them that they were right.

Yes, the customer is always right. But, bitches looking for free food should be kicked to the curb. And Area Managers should back up their Managers when they say "NO!".

Memorial Day

In one of my last blogs, I mentioned Craigslist and the scags on there. I happen to live where many gay men come to celebrate Memorial Day. Please, guys, be on your best behavior. It's hard enough living in the Bible Belt. Let's have a nice, fun, friendly, Memorial Day. I plan on being there with my SPF 1000 sunblock and hairy back, so deal with it.

T.V. or Phone Call?

Say that your best friend in the world called in the middle of your favorite show's season finale, what would you do? Well, of course I talked to my friend, of course. The Desperate Housewives will still be desperate, and the world will go on, but I had to speak to my friend. I'm sure there will be a rerun or I'll catch it on the web, but damn, I wanted to see Bree's return. Oh well, I love you, BFF, anyway!

Craigslist, BMB, etc.

How many of you have gone on Craigslist or Big Muscle Bears lately and seen the insane number of guys who want to bareback or suck-and-swallow? How insane do you have to be in this day and age to want to do that? These guys must either have a death wish or are already positive and don't give two shits. The positive guys have to be the worst. All reports point to somewhere down the line, the virus will potentially mutate (as they all do), and mixing the strains by continuous exposure is the sure-fire way of doing that. Do they want to doom everyone, or what? Serious interdiction (no pun intended) is called for, but what? Bush has curtailed enough of our inalienable rights, I don't want to escalate the Naziism. Questions, comments, razberries?

I know this is shallow, but I'll stop the blogging now to go sit on my ass in front of the crack-tube to see the season finale of Desperate Housewives. Yes, my gay card is platinum, thank you very much. And after, the season finale of Brothers and Sisters. Gotta support any gay characters on the tube, even if the himbos are hetero in real life.

Saturday, May 19, 2007


Yep it does work, but I still like spaces before the first sentence. And just to show that I'm not hyper-anal, I WILL NOT go back and edit the first there.

This Bloggy Thing

Okay, it looks like I write in a forever endless, run-on paragraph kind of thing. Not that I'm anal on grammar or anything ( who am I kidding, yes I am), but I WAS indenting my new paragraphs five full spaces. So now, I guess I know why other bloggers using this template double space between paragraphs.

So now I gotta put in an extra paragraph just to see if it works.

Fingers Crossed. And Toes.

If anyone (all one of you) wants a few laughs and maybe a little restaurant etiquette training at the same time, go to or's writer is a very good and perceptive author and is getting published. Bitterwaittress has a great forum where servers and bartenders from all over write in and commiserate on what a thankless job it is. Although I've been in management for many years, I started as a server and never forgot where I came from. I still enjoy reading about some of the f-ing retards who keep the chairs warm at restaurants. Oh, the stories I can, and will, tell. And to all of you who tip 10% for decent service, karma is a bad mo-fo.
I had my (fingers crossed) interview this morning, and it went very well. I would almost promise to turn uber-religious if God/Mohammed/Krishna would present me with this job. Just the thought of a Monday - Friday work week, holidays off, etc. is almost too much to imagine. I won't go into detail, but I'm very qualified, and from the owner's demeanor, it's in the bag. Now, I just have to charm the wife/partner next week. If I don't get the job, I'm screwed, and I have to look for another restaurant manager (RM) position (Oh, please, Goddess, no!). Or maybe a server/bartender job. Anything hourly. Hell, I'd commute two hours a day to not have to deal with the whole RM thing again.
I once got a not-so-good Performance Review because my employees liked me a lot. It wasn't that I let them get away with anything, but I LISTENED to them. I was on the floor bussing tables, seating people, refilling water, making the shift run smooth. I was a 100% table visit kind of manager. I'll never forget the time I was sent to a different restaurant to fill in, and I visited all the tables. A server came up to me and asked "Was there anything wrong with my table, why did you go over?". Surprised, I go, "That's what we're supposed to do, and they said you're doing a great job." I've never seen a happier server. All people want is to be acknowledged and listened to. And for that, I got graded down on my performance, even though I turned my restaurant from the worst-surveyed store in the Southeast to the best in a three month period...because my employees liked me.
Oh, and thank you "anonymous" for the comment, the check is in the mail...if I had your name...or address...or e-mail...I have Paypal!

Thursday, May 17, 2007


I actually posted a pic for all of 30 seconds and then deleted it. Is that terrible? Do I really want to come out? I'm 47, for God's Sake! I know my dad doesn't read blogs, he's Southern Baptist, for G-d's sake! Oh, to be brave! Throw my inhibitions to the wind! Be free! Screw that! Let Britney have all the limelight. I'm staying incognito. Safer that way. I can stay in my protective shell and lash out at all the injustices in this world. Safe, secure, cowardly, but annonymous and free from lawyers. So there! (Edith Ann tongue razberry to ya!)

It's a New Day

A week ago Saturday, I walked off my job. I've never done that before. I'm the most patient person I know, but some people can be pushed only so far. The restaurant business is a bitch, and believe me, I've worked in some crazy places (lot's of blog material there), so I've moved on. I WILL NEVER WORK IN THE RESTAURANT BUSINESS AGAIN!!! Twenty-odd years in the "biz" is more than I can take. Keep your fingers crossed. I'm interviewing on Saturday for a Monday - Friday, regular-ass job. I truly want to join the "normal" world. Hopefully, it will happen before I file for Chapter 7 ( or 11, or whatever ). More to come, my pretties!

Just got to say, reading is required daily reading for any well-read gay male, fuck that, any nose-breathing bi-pod.

I'm back, stop yawning, yall!

Hey yall,
I don't know if anyone has read any of this so far. I didn't think I'd take it any further. Well, surprise, I'm gonna devote a lot of time to this here blog thingy. I've spent considerable time reading other blogs (, durbanbud, scottevill, amongst others) and I want to add my two cents worth. Lord knows, there aren't enough bloggers out there, hmphbullsh...hph. This area I'm in has been described by others as "The Redneck Riviera", LA ( Lower Alabama ), and other derogatory terms, but I see it as a place to call home. I've lived in Michigan, Mississippi, South Carolina, Ohio, Long Island (Like Butta!), Tennessee, and South Florida. I know South Florida is home to more hot, horny maleness than most, but damn, I never felt more out-of-place than there. More to come in the very near future, my pretties! Keep in touch, we all need a little togetherness amongst all this right-wing nastiness!