Saturday Night Shitstorm

It's a Saturday at the end of school vacation week. It's totally dead and I'm dragging my feet as the minutes roll by like hours. I'm closing tonight, which is a 5-12 shift and it's only about 8 o'clock.

My boss decides to cut the rest of the staff, hoping to get us, as closers, more tables and hence make at least a little cash.

"There's a 12 coming in right now, take it" my boss smiled, knowing I'd be thrilled to finally to have something to do.

They came in, they sat, they spoke and I was instantly horrified. They were all foreign, exchange students meeting together for a birthday. The 12 turned into almost 20 as more and more people filtered in at intervals. In the meantime I was sat three more tables, one in my section and two on the rotation which meant that my tables were scattered all over the restaurant.

Most of the big party didn't speak any English, so they pointed and translated as needed which just took even more of the time I didn't have any of. A while later I was finally out of the weeds..

...although not entirely unscathed...

...and I dropped the check on my larger party's table.

"Can we have separate checks?"

I should have said no, made them figure it out, but they all had their own credit cards and this business from hell that I'm in requires me to say yes as often as I possibly can. So I spent 15 minutes at the computer trying to remember what each person ordered to separate the checks and then another 10 as I ran everyone's credit card through.

Most people would be grateful and compensate, understanding how frustrating it is to separate and run 20 different checks without warning at the beginning of the meal. But what did I say before...

They're foreign.

I'm not racist, but ask anyone in the industry and they will tell you that there are trends as to how certain cultures tip. And because of that I tipped out more than I even made on that table.

Suffice it to say, I hate these people. You ruined my Saturday. Please don't come back.

Framingham Phenomenon

A restaurant in Framingham recently went under a major overhauling as circumstances demanded.  As I've already briefly outlined, drugs are available and predominant in every restaurant setting.  Most of the time they're kept under the radar because most people are smart enough to either not do them when they work or they're able to hide them well.  

Some are just unlucky.  One manager I knew happened to smoke weed, privately and discreetly, with it never interfering with her job.  One server who happened to have a personal vendetta against this woman wrote an anonymous letter to the corporate office detailing her smoking habits.  She was asked to take a random drug test which she failed and was consequently fired.

Then some people are just stupid, like Megan, who chose to drink, and smoke weed and opium before she would come to work.  Needless to say, she was found out fairly quickly and fired even quicker.  

Then other people seem to have had their brains sucked clean out of their ears.  As it turns out, marijuana is one of the most popular drugs around restaurant staff, considering the high stress environment we're subjected to every day.  One of the managers at a restaurant in Framingham would sell it to her servers right on restaurant property.  This same manager also happened to be sleeping with her boss, the general manager.  

Perhaps she felt safe because of this, but she failed to take into account the possible appearance of the regional manager who lately has been frequenting the restaurant to check up on their dwindling sales.  

She was caught.  She was fired.  Half her staff that she was selling to were also fired.  The general manager was demoted.

It was a fiasco and a major taboo within the restaurant's company and came as a shock.  People in the business tend to be more careful, especially those working within corporate companies with strict anti-drug policies.  The fact that this has reached the ears of so many restaurants within a 30 mile radius has put everyone on edge.  Those who enjoy their recreational drug use are concerned about the repercussions and possibilities of a crack down on the usually ignored policies.

It's always a select few that ruins things for everyone else.  

Celebrity Sitings

Just to keep a running list of celebrities who frequent our establishments.

Jessica Biel

Jerry Seinfeld

Nomar Garciaparra

Jason Varitek 

Anonymous Massachusetts Congressman 

Ray Allen

Chris Evans (Johnny Storm from Fantastic 4)

Bill Belichick

Kevin Youkilis

Pinocchio Clones

In the restaurant business, a big personality is a requirement.  You have to be able to talk to people easily and make small talk and jokes at leisure.  You have to know your stuff, but what happens when you don't?  

We lie.

My roommate had a table of two elderly ladies.

"Are you seeing anyone in this establishment?" One of them asked.  

"Yes." She lied.  "His name is AJ." She pointed at the host at the front door.

"Aw, do you love him?" 

"Yes, I love him very much."  The ladies clapped their hands together excitedly and squealed like little girls.

"That's so great!  I don't see a ring though."

"Oh I'm only 23, there's plenty of time for that later."

"Do you both want kids?" 

"Yes we both want lots of kids." She held back her laughter as the ladies' smiles grew wider.  She introduced them to our friend AJ and they barraged him with questions which he was hardly able to field without her help.  He's never been a server and not exactly an avid talker and floundered miserably until he was able to escape.  

We lie about everything.

"Are you in school?"  While I could easily say, yes, 'I'm just finishing up my undergraduate degree at UMass even though I'm already 25' , I find myself fastforwarding to the future where I'm already in law school and I spin that story.   Let's face it, it sounds better and sometimes it's just easier to lie than tell the truth about ourselves.  

We have to lie to suit your personality and your interests.  If you're sitting in the lounge avidly watching the Celtics game, I'll find out some random fact and talk to you about it like I too follow the C's even though I don't think I've ever watched a whole game.  

We lie about your children being well behaved, about the gaudy broach you're wearing and tell you it's alright and we're in no rush when you take fifteen minutes to decide on a glass of water to drink.  

We lie about our job too, namely the food.  

"Yes sir, the carbonara is fantastic," minus the gooey texture it transforms into as soon as it comes off the stove and I'm sure without the ten pounds of salt and astounding lack of pancetta it would be good.

"It should just be a couple more minutes until your food's ready," except it will really be ten because I totally forgot to put it in the computer.

It's not spiteful.  We don't do it to be mean.  It may be a bit manipulative, but that's business and we're in the worst kind of it.

Evolution of a Mill City

Lowell Massachusetts was once renowned as a thriving industrialized city and a textile manufacturing center. However, now that we no longer require the original use of the cotton mills, many of the buildings have been turned into museums and exhibits protected by the Lowell National Historic Park. Not all of the buildings were preserved as monuments to history, though. Some, like the Boott Cotton Mills were transformed into housing communities offering condo and apartment living.

More than 75% of the mill buildings have been restored and converted and now encourages about 700,000 tourists to visit every year. They’re common places for field trips year round as busses bring children to learn about the industrial revolution.

Field Trips

You can take a tour by foot, trolley or boat on the Merrimack.

Last year the National Park service finished restoring the canal system that runs through Lowell so that boat tours through the canals are now open to the public.

Canal

During the 19^th century, Lowell thrived as a the country’s biggest textile manufacturing city, using the waterpower of the Merrimack River to put the mills into operation. Two hundred years later the mills remain standing but their function has entirely transformed. Protected by the Lowell National Historical Park, the buildings, gatehouses and canals have all been restored. While some buildings have been altered into museums, much of the rest have been converted into residential housing.

Located on John St., adjacent to the Merrimack River lies what was once the Boott Cotton Mills. While a few of its buildings remain as exhibits in honor of the historic mill as well as contain office space, most of them are now condominiums and apartments.

The apartments boast high ceilings with exposed brick and beams and extremely spacious floorplans. With its amenities and heat and hot water included in the rent, it makes for a comfortable place to live. It's located right in downtown Lowell within walking distance to almost anything you might need.

Bedroom

Living Room

“It was totally renovated in 2005 and it’s even more beautiful than ever,” said Jackie Gill, assistant manager of the Apartments at Boott Mills.

"The park service did a great job of modernizing the buildings while protecting the heritage they stand for," agreed leasing consultant, Christine Simsek.

While the National Park Service has accomplished a great deal in the past 30 years, they still look to future of Lowell.

“We plan to continue expanding the restoration and development of the old buildings and canals and improve and add more programs to bring people to Lowell,” said volunteer park ranger Mike Schaeffer. “There’s a lot of history here.”

Satan Wears an Apron

She's 5'6" and roughly 200lbs.  She has blonde hair cut and shaved shorter than most of the men I work with.  She wears thick plastic glasses and tight velour pants.  She pants loudly as she stumbles around the restaurant and moves about as fast as computers did 50 years ago.

Meet the devil.

She's worked in the restaurant since it opened 18 years ago, when she was probably about 70 years old, and has bestowed an inherent entitlement on herself.  She knows every guest that walks through the doors and makes it her priority to stop at every table and plague them with her evil.  

I saw a table of women glance at each other as Satan wobbled away from them toward the kitchen and roll their eyes.  

"You know her?"

Her friend nodded reluctantly.

"I'm sorry."

So was I.  Sorry that the devil has brought hell to earth and forced us all to swelter in the fiery depths.  

Everyone has co-workers they can't stand, but few are forced to work with Lucifer.  She is by far the rudest person I have ever, and probably will ever, meet, yet, like the devil she masks it with fake politeness.  

Standing at the service bar on a busy Saturday night waiting for my drinks I can hear her gasping breathing behind me and almost simultaneously a stubby fat hand roughly pushes me to the side to get her own drinks.

"Excuse me" she barks afterward stressing her annoyance at my being in her way and negating the compunction the remark is meant to bring.  Why would she even bother saying it?  It's the devils attempt at appearing human with common social courtesy.  

When I first met her I thought it was my own abrasive personality that simply clashed with hers.  It only took a week for me to notice the obvious abhorrence that both the staff and clientele held for her.  

Despite this, she's left to her own devices, management too intimidated by her to attempt a personality overhaul.  She's a permanent fixture in the restaurant, like the warped wood floors.  Been there forever, deteriorated and too expensive to fix.  So she continues on, warping the lives of everyone who has the misfortune of meeting her.  

Dirty Secrets

Many people don’t realize how much trust they place in a restaurant’s staff when they go out to eat, but is that trust warranted? They may be placated by the health code restaurants are obligated to abide by and the regular visits by board of health officials. However behind the swinging kitchen doors lies a cesspool of violations that, while not fatal, might make you think twice about eating out.

What we cut your pizzas with...

The Massachusetts Board of Health stipulates several provisions in an attempt to regulate restaurants and ensure the safety of their patrons. While most restaurants rigidly follow the cooking and storing procedures in terms of temperature and preparation which safeguards against many food borne illnesses, that still leaves a wide variety of things that can affect your meal before it even hits the table.

Perhaps the most violated of the code is the fourth condition that declares there be no bare hand contact with ready-to-eat food. It happens all the time, whether it be merely to rearrange the plating, or inadvertently while carrying it.

It also happens when we eat off your plate.

Yes, we really do. It may be a French fry or piece of calamari but it happens all the time. My boss went to a Fridays not long ago and he ordered nachos. As the waitress walked over to the table, he noticed a long string of cheese from the plate connected to the server’s mouth. Gross? It’s already happened to you.

Sanitize this

You run the risk of other things besides minor theft happening to your food though, via preparation. Has the knife that was used to cut the chicken for your salad been dropped on the floor? Are the hands of the chef clean? At one restaurant they make their own hand crushed marinara sauce. The man who prepares this is forced elbow deep in a giant bowl…without gloves…and very hairy arms. You weren’t expecting that kind of seasoning were you?

The dirty secrets that lie behind the kitchen doors don’t always go unnoticed, though. At the same restaurant , where the line is observable for any who want to watch their food being cooked, the sous chef absentmindedly licked his fingers and a guest at a nearby table noticed. Horrified, she outed him to the management staff even going so far as to call the corporate office to divulge his lack of adherence to health code policies.

Beyond the actual food you may believe you have little to worry about. But every aspect of your dining experience relies on our integrity and diligence. Is your fork clean? Are your condiments sanitary? At one restaurant, where oil is a fixed condiment on every table, servers are required to fill and clean these every night. Beside the table where this is done is the linen basket where dirty tablecloths and napkins are thrown. So to clean these glass oil dispensers we need only to reach over and grab a dirty napkin and wipe.

Yum.

At some places baskets are used to hold bread or breadsticks. These baskets can be found all over the restaurant, thrown at unsuspecting servers, falling on the floor, in puddles of dishwater, immersed in leftover food as its cleared from the table. Then at night they’re stored without being washed.

Double yum.

It’s not that we’re trying to be disgusting and reveling in our power to serve you nastiness, but when we’re paid $2.63 an hour it’s hard to care.

We’re not the only ones to blame though. Our managers can be just as irresponsible. At a restaurant in Woburn one summer we discovered we had an extra body “working the floor”, a mouse. My boss, who has since been fired was worried about repercussions and thus neglected to call and exterminator hoping it would eventually leave. We were under strict orders to refrain from screaming or calling attention to it as it scurried under our feet as we worked.

Still hungry?