Help Wanted

In the long search for competent help - a process that lasted over some 18 months and brought us a startling and truly unsettling parade of inept, issue-ridden, depressed, and inappropriately dressed young women - we have finally found a grownup. I had almost forgotten what it was like to work with a pleasant, smart, reasoning and motivated adult and I find myself waiting to discover what dreadful flaws we might have overlooked. A secret past, perhaps, or an undisclosed psychiatric illness - connections to the mafia, a biker boyfriend on the side, a criminal history or a drug habit. Experience has taught me to be cautious, to wait and see despite a favorable initial impression.

The restaurant workplace is an entirely different kettle of fish, as my old grandmother would say. Help comes and goes the way the sun rises and sets with different faces appearing and disappearing each week. There is no end of drama, a veritable novel plays out each day and evening among the staff, a ceaseless battle of "he said, she said" and "no fair" and "if that was me I'd have been fired". There are tears and temper tantrums in every corner from the patio to the kitchen, with personal lives intruding and causing unrest and agitation, a small scale civil war over tips and territory is always in progress on some level. On one hand, it's a harsh and unforgiving environment - on the other, it's relaxed and casual, like a friendly gathering of old if slightly competitive friends. There are very few secrets and far too many rumors.

To this unstable and unpredictable mix, we then add customers who bring all their own demands and expectations to the table. They come in three piece suits, looking down their noses at the wine list and feeling entitled - they come in diamonds and stiletto heels, decked out and impatient for special attention. But they also come in jeans and denim vests, smiling and tipping well - they come seeking advice on wine and actually taking it. They say thank you and wish you a good evening and are a pleasure to wait on.

There is no perfect workplace, no perfect staff, no perfect clientele. Neither are there perfect people or perfect families - life simply does not permit or offer us such extravagances.