We have two types of gravy, brown and white. During the summer when we are overworked and understaffed we are supposed to have one type of gravy, white. However, Speedy insists “you can’t run a restaurant with only one type of gravy” and continues to make brown gravy. When Bagheera and I said we were getting rid of it Speedy ordered 3 cases of that shit.
I’ve told all of the bartenders that customers DO NOT get a choice of gravy. They get what I give them, which is usually white. The last thing I want is a ten top all ordering different potatoes and gravy. Fuck that shit.
Is this a hard concept?
Every time I work with Foghorn Leghorn (4 nights a week) I have to tell him, “Customers don’t get a choice of gravy! They get what I have.” He then looks utterly confused as if it’s news to him.
I got my ass handed to me on Saturday night. For some reason it was steak night and everybody wanted a different temperature…rare, mid rare, sort of pink, not pink but not burned, well done, well done, but very tender…I wanted to scream. This was going on in the bar and in the restaurant. I was ready to curl up in the fetal position by the trash can and find my Happy Place.
Then Foghorn Leghorn started the gravy choice shit. I was polite for the first two or three tickets, then I started screaming at him.
During this madness, for reasons unknown to me, people started poking their head over the swinging doors to the kitchen and yelling their orders to Bagheera, rather than sitting down and letting her take their order.
I lost my fucking my mind.
Then I ran out of white gravy. I scrambled around and found a container of brown gravy from the day before. I told Foghorn Leghorn we were now serving brown gravy and again, STOP GIVING PEOPLE A GRAVY CHOICE.
The very next ticket he brought in the kitchen was for fries with country gravy. I wadded it up in a ball, screamed, “WE DON’T HAVE ANY FUCKING WHITE GRAVY!” and threw it in his face. He stammered that he didn’t know what “country gravy” was, which made me wonder:
- Does he think we have three types of gravy?
- Is he really that dumb?
- Is he trying to push me over the edge?
Bagheera told him to get out of the kitchen. As in now. I was going to kill that little fucker, but I couldn’t find my knife.
Then there was some issue about cheese on the fries instead of gravy we didn’t have. Bagheera told him to leave the kitchen and not come back until he pulled his head out of his ass.
The only smart thing he did all night was he stopped a customer from coming in the kitchen to ask for white gravy.
Every time I tried to fall asleep Saturday night, I woke up asking myself, “What the fuck is his problem with the gravy?” I was awake until 6 in the morning.
Sunday was a slow day and Bagheera and I spent the day cleaning and relaxing. Foghorn Leghorn spent his day off drinking in the bar. When we closed we wandered over to the bar and right in front of several of our regular customers, Bagheera asked Foghorn Leghorn, “So…did you ever figure out the deal with the gravy?” Everyone started laughing because apparently they could hear me yelling at him all the way over in the bar.
Foghorn Leghorn said, “We had a gravy choice until you started working here. I just haven’t adjusted to it yet.”
I said, “I’ve been here 6 months. How much more time do you need?”
I didn’t hear his answer over all the laughter.