Last night the owner of the restaurant I work at hugged me…

You know the drill: a bartender quits without the kindness of dropping a two week notice, forcing the only other employee with a mixology degree available to relinquish their serving shift and cover the bar. A normally dependable fellow server calls in with a case of “strep throat”, and the only other server working with you is pulling a double to cover the missing servers on the floor out of the divine kindness of her heart but wants to get off the floor ASAP so that she can get some much deserved rest and relaxation before she has to work early the next morning, so you are basically the only one with their heart really into the shift.
All of these variables happened to me last night and I had two choices, perform one of the single greatest ballets of full service culinary expediting I had ever pulled off over the course of my twenty two years in the restaurant industry, or get eaten alive like a dolphin who has already lost a fin at the very beginning of a sharks feeding frenzy.
I chose the prize behind door número UNO and was rewarded with over $3900 in sales in less than five hours, producing well over $700 in tips for me to distribute among myself and my support staff, which resulted in me walking with around $375 when all was said and done, therefore earning myself just below $80 per hour for the night. Not too shabby if I do say so my self.
But the cherry on top of the sunday of the whole evening was when I was sitting down, doing my check out at the end of the night, reflecting on what I had pulled off and how one of the service assistants had complimented me by saying how much fun it was to watch me kick such gluteus maximus and take names, when the owner and head chef of the restaurant came over with gratitude just glistening from his continuance and simply gives me a hug to show his respect and appreciation for what I had done for his restaurant that night. Cool beans indeed my friends…


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