Everyone knows that opening a restaurant is tough – it takes a while to get a routine and steady flow down…and you’re bound to fuck shit up. However, four and a half months after the Blue Canary opened, I went to the liquor cage only to discover I had no vodka.
“Alyssa!” I called as I saw my manager coming out of the office.
I saw her fishing her keys into her pocket and broke into a run. Her eyes locked with mine as if to say, “Please don’t give me something to do…I have people to text and bull shit to spew.” but I wasn’t about to have any of that.
“Alyssa,” I said, firmly placing my hand on the door, “there’s no vodka.”
“Oh,” she sighed, pulling out her Blackberry, “it’s not a problem. Just use the well.”
“No…Alyssa…THERE IS NO VODKA. Like…none in the building.”
“Oh.” she said, still texting. “Well, I guess just wait a few days. I don’t know who did the order for this week.”
“Ummm…” I mumbled, confused, “you’re the bar manager?”
“Just go and open the bar…I’ll be right there.”
Whatever, I would think to myself when presented with similar situations, it’s not my restaurant. Who gives a fuck?
But, as all servers know, just because it isn’t your restaurant doesn’t mean you don’t give a fuck…
This is where friends and family fail. Whenever you bitch and complain about work you always get the same excuse, “Why do you take it so seriously? You need to stop stressing out?”
My restaurant is home of the smirking burger and the broiler is broken. If my restaurant doesn’t produce the item it is famous for serving, then I get no money. If I get no money, I can’t pay my bills. If I don’t pay my bills, I get sent to collections. If I get sent to collections, I am forced to spend whatever money I do have on booze…and become an alcoholic.
You feel me?…
So, when Alyssa told me to open the bar, I began going through…the four steps.