Yup, that’s the place I’ve been working at these many months. Wednesday I got fired. Needless to say worry kicked in, when I committed High Crimes and Misdemeanors. Caught in the act of drinking coffee and eating bread, I knew I was in grave peril of losing my job.
On the evening that I got fired, two things happened. One was the very honest mistake of ringing in a Veal Terrine when I knew in fact they wanted an Upside Down Tuna Tarte. I stared at the button knowing full well what they wanted and still rang in the wrong item; I have no explanation for this behavior. It just happened. I was moderately busy, yet I was also very stressed because for the past few weeks I’ve been very worried about every small mistake that could lead to my termination. After all, when the General Manager tells you, clearly – one more incident and you’re off the island. I’m sure that thought and worry alone leads to mistakes.
The second incident was a really crazy restaurant week guest. After she asked a few questions about the menu and shared her disappointment that we didn’t have any bottles of wine for under $36, she determined that the Mushroom Soup was chicken stock based. Quickly she proclaimed with pride “I’m a vegetarian”. Imminently the Sweet Georgia Shrimp was ordered; I didn’t feel like it was my position to question her brand of vegetarianism, so I put in the ticket. After eating the Shrimp her second course came, Swordfish with Eggplant Caviar she flipped out when she found onions in the dish. The dining room manager that would later attend my firing helped her out and dealt with the complaint. She flipped out to such a degree that he removed a restaurant week menu from her check. She clearly wanted a free meal; no one flips out that much over onions.
So the General Manager pulled a Donald, actually she pulled a Martha and said “I don’t want to waist your time, you just don’t fit in. I know your managers have been waiting for you to shape up and you just haven’t.” I walk out of the room, hug my co-workers which I will sorely miss and cleaned out my locker. Sigh, I’m sad the end came so quickly.
The thing that bugs me the most; is the fissure between management and the lowly waiters, it’s fast turning into a them against us mentality, in which the servers must fend for their own survival. The funny thing is, we’re adaptable. At the end of our shifts, we’re still hungry; no amount of rules can change that. So we watch each others back while we eat a bit of bread. Now the Bar Room at the Modern will soon turn into the Fine Dining Room where miserable people serve miserable people.
Because of such a great disparagement, what Danny Meyer proclaims his company to be (his number one rule is that we take care of each other, he also states that we should always be on the guests side) and the true reality. I am driven to write him a letter with some highlights of my Modern experience. I’m also C.Cing that letter to Agnes Gund; a lady, that has for some time been sending me letters asking me to renew my MOMA Museum Membership (I’m sure I’m on some automatic mailing list). I want to explain to her why I can not in good conscious renew my membership even though I love what the museum is doing. Getting fired will do that to a person. Besides the owner of the company should know; that his philosophy vastly differs from reality. If he’ll react, I don’t know; I don’t expect any response.
For the future I hope to use my time wisely and see if I can get a job away from the Hospitality Industry and I’ll be writing a whole lot more.
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