12 July 2008

12July-self-indulgent, guilty post since I'm out of town tomorrow
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Tonight was busier than we've been in several months and was consistent with a trend we've seen all week of renewed interest in that which we do.

And tomorrow, on a Saturday, I'll be out of town. I'll be traipsing in a linen suit through some copse of verdant grass in the mountains outside of Asheville with my beautiful girlfriend in celebration of the wedding of a good, good old friend of mine.
Meanwhile, if tonight was any indication, the restaurant will be assailed by eager customers cresting the hill like hungry Visigoths pouring into Thracia.

I'm terribly proud of the efforts of my staff. Sometimes even I find it easy to forget how difficult their jobs are. Every night we ask of them not only to put up with our craziness, but to walk up to strangers and try to satisfy their unique expectations and whims. If you've ever dreaded public speaking you can imagine the stress of approaching a table, unsure of how you'll be accepted, and then throw in trying to remember dish abbreviations, what's in stock, that another of your tables requested one drink and another table is still waiting on a side of rice.
Ours is not an easy job but it's important for us, and everyone, to remember basic tenets of relativity. Granted, a sniper for the L.A. S.W.A.T. team has a stressful, thankless, and bad- dream-plagued life that makes a bad tip from an unpleasant table pale in comparison. But we haven't all had that experience and, for all intents and purposes, our toughest day is just that: our toughest day.

Is the five year old who's broken an arm less deserving of sympathy than the thirty year old who's lost an arm?

We all have tough jobs. And it's not a competition. Everyone's efforts and toils and disappointments should be respected as being important to that person, even if they might seem less stressful than your own. Anyway, let's face it, in almost every case it could be much, much worse.


Update: As it happens, I hear it wasn't so bad. ...I worry too much...

Further update:

here I am, as predicted, traipsing in a linen suit through some copse of verdant grass in the mountains outside of Asheville with my beautiful girlfriend in celebration of the wedding of a good, good old friend of mine.
photo by Bill Mosher

I don't know what I'm doing here.
Leigh says I'm making the number 4

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