Waiter’s IRA Account Program

We all know the main Waiter’s Retirement Program. Of course, only a fool would put all his eggs in one basket. One must diversify if he wants to be assured of a comfortable retirement. Hence, the Waiter’s Virtual IRA Account . . . Las Vegas winnings!

I’m going out there tonight. It’ll be the first time in years. Generally, I’ve eliminated Vegas from my entertainment diet over the last 7-8 years. I used to go three or four times annually all through the ’90s. In terms of Vegas, I was on fire those years. My unofficial reckoning had me about even for the entire decade, and that included airfare, food, and lodging – not just gambling. I would reconcile how much I had before I left with how much I had when I got home. Telling people you won $500 in Las Vegas while not accounting for the $200 hotel, the $200 fancy dinner, the multiple $40 lunches, more miscellaneous tips than you could shake a stick at, the $125 nightclub excursion, and another $100 at the strip club . . . that’s the same as my pet peeve about saying you made $300 before tipping out. Who cares? It’s the bottom line.

Anyway, I hit my Waterloo on a particular birthday trip to the town. Lost $10,000. That’s right. For a waiter, or most anybody, that’s a lot of money. And I was just one bet away from coming out close to even. I was down, way down. I’d switched to Stoli OJ’s at the Paris Casino. And I mounted a furious, hysterical comeback at the mini Baccarat table. In the space of about an hour I had built back up to about five grand, and I had it all out there on the Bank (I think). It was stacked up like a Tower Of Babel, not all neat, with fives and singles and hundreds all helter skelter in a single tilting tower. And I lost.

Totally trashed in every way, my buddy ran across a hooker walking into the lobby. He was down about five grand. Totally tapped out. The hooker did her hooker thing: acting like she was attracted to us and wanted to party. I wasn’t into it, but my buddy was. Brass tacks came out and she needed $200. Of course we had nothing. The hooker followed my buddy and me to the ATM where he kept putting the same defunct credit card into the machine. And getting it declined. Then she followed us to the pay phones where he called the number on the back of the card. She was leaning against the wall, examining her nails, probably thinking, These guys are a joke!

After he got stiff-armed by the credit card 800 line, my buddy turned to her and asked, ‘You wanna get a drink, anyway?’

‘I gotta go.’

But it’s a new day, and I’m a new man. I brought a book to read, in case I crap out early. Finances simply will not support losing $500, so I will stop short if things don’t go my way. In the past, I had only myself to worry about and no mortgage, so I could always talk myself into another $300 cash advance. Things are different now.

I’m due back Tuesday night so I can be ready to work lunch on Wednesday. Wish me luck, please.

New Year’s Eve Recap

The night at Carney’s felt frustratingly slow. But it really wasn’t. The problem was that an extra server was scheduled, so we were kind of alternated between falling over each other and twiddling our thumbs. The restaurant had more than two full seatings, booked solid – just, we only had three or four tables each. When all was said and done, we walked with $335 (remember, we tip pool at Carney’s). Not bad. I’ve made over $500 there on New Year’s Eve, but these are different times.

Carney’s owners have been employing some value-oriented strategies the last six months. Some ill-advised, some not. Wednesday night they brought out a typical condensed ‘Holiday’ menu – about half the items from the regular menu. They bundled a $9 salad and a $6 side, yet only raised the prices between zero and $5.

In my experience, waiters almost unanimously oppose any price cuts, discounts, coupons, value combos, early bird specials, etc. Our short-sighted perspective is: I have two guests who would otherwise be spending $150 (translation, $30 tip), but instead are getting out for $100 ($20 tip). And, of course, a distant second in this thinking: The house is getting $50 less income.

It’s taken many years, but I’ve come to understand the long view here. Currently, it is a good idea on several levels to rein in prices. While initially it really does hit the bottom line hard (because at the beginning of such programs, guests are often unaware – they’ve already come in expecting the regular rates and are ready to pay) – over a period of time, however, it creates the guest perception that it’s really not as expensive as they might have thought. They will therefore come again, even when they are pinching a few pennies. Further, go down the road to a time when the economy has improved and purse strings are looser, your restaurant will benefit the most because you’ve remained in their consciousness through the hard times. At that point, they will simply come more often and spend more while they’re there.

Of course, nothing is black and white, so even when price-cutting strategies work, there are always plenty of exceptions. You have to hold the line on some things. Don’t change your entire identity; instead, add more affordable items while retaining your top-notch items at their same top-notch prices. Carney’s did an interesting thing that’s been very effective. They added a smaller Filet Mignon (6 oz.) to the bar/lounge menu at $29. I believe it’s only Choice, while the regular 10 oz. Filet is Prime and costs $45. It’s been very popular. I can see the strategy working, as the volume has been solid. And like I said, you have to get through these times without disappearing from the grid.

Enough of that. I mentioned awhile back The Waiter’s Holiday, but truly, New Year’s Day is the Waiter’s Holiday. There are only a few (nearly) universal days waiters can expect to get off. The Big Three: Thanksgiving, Christmas, New Year’s Day.

Thanksgiving and Christmas are chock-filled with family obligations. Combine that with the fact that every place is shut down, and you have merely a nice day off, a day of rest. But New Year’s Day has parties, sports, bloody marys. It also has a lack of obligations. You’ve just finished your best money-making night of the year (generally) and the only thing you really have to do is . . . nothing at all. It’s beautiful. The beauty is amplified because it’s the capper on the high-stress Holiday season. New Year’s Eve was Game Seven and you have officially finished the Playoffs (to use a sports metaphor).

The last several years I’ve risen late and straggled down to a local beachfront seafood bar/grill to enjoy Stoli bloody marys and peek at a football game or two. After two or three drinks I would head to the residences of some local friends and some more football. I’d kind of crap out early from the afternoon drinking, maybe get home and watch a rented movie or something. It was fun.

This year I never left the house. And that was fun too. I had coffee, reviewed the news and sports, ate, watched a tiny bit of football, worked on the computer, recorded some of my original music on a new program I acquired, and finally eased into a martini around 7:30 p.m.

Back to work Friday morning didn’t go smoothly. I had mentally screwed up the verbal relay of my schedule at Michael’s, and thought I was off.

I got The Call. “Hey, where are you?” Every waiter has had that call. I made profuse apologies and managed to be only an hour late. Fortunately for the restaurant (and me, I guess) it was pretty slow so there were no repercussions. Despite the fact that Michael’s is highly corporate, everyone looked the other way and I didn’t get written up.

Carney’s was also slow. So much that they cut a waiter in advance. Just two of us. It was fine. Made $163.

Tonight, more of the same, but we had all three of us. I was the opener, so I left early. Don’t know how much I made.

I’ve noticed the last several years at Carney’s – a hard drinking place – that the first couple weeks in January are particularly slow. They would be anyway, but with these drinkers, New Year’s Resolutions invariably involve quitting/cutting back on drinking. They finally cave mid-month and it’s back to business.

Me? I’m having a martini right now. Cheers!

Waiter’s Holiday . . . Uh, no

Hey, no one posts to their blog every single day. And if they do, they’re boring.

I called in sick on Tuesday at Michael’s. And no, this was the rare occasion that my ‘illness’ was not what I call a Waiter’s Holiday. That would be when you are anything but sick, and you just want to take the day off.

As a generalization, waiters do not call in sick when they actually are sick. ‘I can’t call in sick. I need the money.’ I’ve even seen waiters pimp their illness for better tips! As Mikethewaiter noted recently, we can be a self-centered bunch.

Of course the implicit reverse of this is, ‘I don’t need the money right now, so I’m calling in sick.’

It reminds me of a weekend about fifteen years ago. I was working at the Fish House. The schedule there was a fixed affair – wherein you are always scheduled, for instance, Thursday through Sunday (coincidentally, that was my schedule for years at the Fish House). If you want a day off, it’s on you to get the shift covered by one of your mates. Same for vacations. The managers washed their hands of the whole thing. Personally, the fixed schedule is my preference over the manager-written schedule. You have high predictability because it never changes; you have high flexibility because you’re not dependent on currying favor with the manager; you have ultimate fairness because others can’t curry favor with managers to get better shifts (or get them off). The schedule is the schedule.

Anyway, back on point. Super Bowl Sunday was approaching and my gang of friends was going to rip it up at a fancy seafood brunch down in Orange County. At the time, the attraction to us was that they put a bottle of Stoli on ice in the chilled buffet bar, next the shrimp and oysters and everything. We also expected a lot of girls to be there.

Being scheduled Super Sunday, I couldn’t find a waiter to cover my dinner shift. But I was able to switch with the On Call server. That put me just a step away from having the day off. I consulted the manager, who told me that it would not be exceptionally busy at the Fish House Super Sunday, so, barring a server calling in sick, I would have the day off.

That wasn’t enough for me. I then went to every server scheduled that night – five of them – and told them my plans. I asked them fairly if they were planning on calling in sick to get the day off. If so, I wouldn’t bother with the On Call switch, I’d just work. To a man, they assured me they wouldn’t. There was one woman, though, who was at the time a good friend of mine. She said I would have no problem. She was meeting her boyfriend in San Diego for his bike race on Saturday, coming back Sunday afternoon. No problem.

We hit the Stoli and beers and peel-and-eat shrimp pretty hard that day. The girl thing was a disappointment, but everybody was getting trashed, so it was fun anyway. I called dutifully for my On Call at 3 p.m. Just a formality of course.

‘We’re gonna need you at five.’

I thought he was joking. But he wasn’t. I was seething. My woman friend had called in. She claimed ‘car trouble.’

I immediately quit drinking and started watching my friends have fun. I was sober enough to drive, and ended up at work, having a quite profitable evening. I got home to find my roommates crashed out already. Next day, I was bright-eyed and fresh. All told, it really wasn’t so bad.

Except for the fact that I knew she and her boyfriend had two cars. She could have taken his home to cover her shift. And of course, it was all a lie anyway. I couldn’t believe she would be so selfish as to do that to me, when I’d asked her (again, fairly) in advance. I had acknowledged she might be planning to lie and call in to have the day off. If so, I was willing to defer to her and let her have it. We were not friends for a full year after that, and even then, it was never the same.

So what did I do for my Waiter’s Holiday? I was actually sick. Caught the stomach flu, or the something flu. Almost the whole family got it in a three day period. I spent 32 hours in bed. Felt okay to work yesterday, but had to nap between shifts. Then crashed again when I got home. Well, crashed after watching the Lakers handle the 76ers on Tivo.

Today again, I had a rock solid two-hour nap between shifts. I’m pretty much feeling better now. Another good night’s rest and I think I’ll be up to snuff again.

Yesterday was poor all around. Thirty-five dollars at lunch and $65 at dinner. Today, on the other hand was $110 at lunch and $155 at dinner.

The mood at Michael’s for lunch has been pretty good. Volume is down, certainly, but the guests are spending. It’s as if the only ones left are the ones who can really spend money – and they’re doing it. Today I had only three tables. It’s been like that.