"There Goes Your Social Life." -Dionne

I'm really hoping to see a couple friends today for afternoon coffee, another couple for dinner, and another couple for after-dinner drinks. I gave my friends an 8-hour window that I'd be able to see them at one of the hottest places to grab a bite and a beverage in New York.

The catch is that I'll be working. It's my only hope of seeing friends today. Since it's Wednesday, nobody's going to want to hang out when I leave at 10:00pm and I can't relax over drinks before work because: 1) I don't always love drinking at 1:00 unless I'm eating a great brunch, 2) Most of my friends don't have the luxury of drinking at 1:00, since most of their (albeit crappy) jobs take place in the daylight and, and this is the kicker, 3) I don't want to carouse before heading into an 8-hour shift because I need to conserve my energy for the floor.

Restaurant work, while social by nature, can wreak havoc on a healthy social life unless your coterie is also in the industry. I work while others play- in fact, my work facilitates that play. Think about it- the times you want to go out are precisely the times I hope to be working, since I'll make more money off people who think exactly like you. On Sundays, when I work brunch, I try not to see friends afterwards since I'm often exhausted, a little dirty and a lotta cranky. I often end up seeing music on Sunday nights, but when people ask me why I look so tired I just tell them "I've been awake a really long time."

Some weeks are harder than others. This week my time has been totally booked, so today's my best shot at seeing the friends I care about for the rest of the week. It's tough, but my friends understand. And they come visit me at quieter times in my shift so I can actually see and talk to them, and so they can see where I work (and what I write about).

See you at work, friends!

My Doubles Are Bigger Than Yours.

Well, I'm not technically working a double today but still. Most restaurants have 6 hour shifts, making a double 12 hours. Our shifts are 8-10 hours, making our doubles monstrous. Today I am working Sunday brunch as a barista 9 AM - 5 PM, and then heading into the downstairs prep kitchen to work till 10 PM doing room service. 9 AM- 10 PM is not a double where I work, but it's a long double for normal dining establishments.

Why did I do it? I did it because the room service shift will be pretty easy, and I will make at least $60 bucks doing it. Jealous yet?

Working Brunch Is Hard.

I work Sunday brunch and often earn dinner money. Alcohol doesn't move like it does in the evening- the occasional mimosa or bloody mary isn't the same thing as dinner where you're looking at at least one alcoholic drink per table on average. The money comes from turnover- and diligent servers up-selling pricey side dishes. I frankly believe we deserve it. Brunch asks you to not only deal with pre-caffeinated customers, but to be at the top of your game from the time you clock in.

I like being busy at work, but I don't like doing it early in the morning. By 10 it's moving at a steady clip and by 11, mobbed. I know it doesn't sound early- but think of it this way. In order to be perky and pert upon interacting with the customers and staff beginning at 9 AM, I wake up at 7 AM so I can fully adjust to life before arriving at work. Again, not awful, but it does mean I don't do much Saturday nights. I'm usually tired Saturday nights anyway because I get home from work between 2 AM- 3 AM Saturday morning from Friday night dinner service. It's a weird life where you go to work at 4 PM, sleep it off and then wake up early the day after. Now I'm experienced with coming in early, but I'll never get used to it. (Remember when I was regularly clocking in at 7 AM?)

Things get spilled on me a lot during these busy weekend brunch shifts. Today: Hot coffee, cold coffee, ketchup, water, and jam. I didn't know jam could spill but you live, you learn, you experience projectile fruit product.

Remember That Time I Felt Really Sorry For Myself? My Bad.

I have a small work-related up-date.

Remember that Thursday shift I lost? And remember I was playing it off all cool but really I was freaking out because I thought I was one step closer to living in a box eating discarded McDonalds ketchup packets out of the garbage?

My bad. On re-looking at the schedule I realized I've been relocated to Sunday brunch work. This means that I got traded onto a more lucrative day shift. It also means I'll be a lot busier, but I'm ok with that. Once I'm at the restaurant, I'd prefer having a lot to do.

But how did I make such a dumb error? Besides being generally stressed out about my life which clearly clouds my close reading skills, I'm also not used to looking past Friday on the schedule since I haven't been scheduled for a weekend barista shift in months. We "set the schedule" months ago too and, since I'm no fool, I opted for night shifts where I work less and earn more in coffee land as opposed to the hellish pace of weekend brunches. Sure we were sent new schedules week after week despite it being "set," but my shifts never changed. But after some turnover in the barista community, I'm back on the weekend brunch team. Because I'm the only barista left who can make latte art.

Phew.

R.I.P. Deli Coffee Cup Man.

Leslie Buck, designer of the ubiquitous We Are Happy To Serve You blue paper coffee cup passed away yesterday at the age of 87. Check out the NY Times obit for this graphic design pioneer- immigrant, holocaust survivor, shrewd businessman. I bet his design legacy will live for many years to come.

V.I.P. Reflection Effect

Many restaurant kitchens jump through hoops to give a VIP exactly what he wants. Like Yosemite Sam cooking in the king's kitchen.




But just because someone is powerful doesn't mean they know about food. VIPs out there- stick to the menu. Or, since money is no object for you and yet some of your meal will be comped so you feel good and come back, tell the kitchen they can send you whatever they want and they'll love you for letting them show off their finest dishes. Live a little.

Of course, those of us front of house deal with strange requests as well. Bizarre VIP request story of the week: The son of a beloved American actor known for playing a kind of slow but remarkably zeitgeist-y southerner and various generic romantic leads came into the restaurant with friends several months ago. His request? That we put his Americano in a different, larger cup that was "easier to hold." Seeing as we only stock one size of coffee cup, we had to run around like crazy looking for a different mug. But we find one we did. And I hope he found the mug suitably easy on his delicate fingers.

David Lynch is a Server's Auteur.

Agent Cooper, serving you would be a dream. You're so polite, your order is simple, and you tip like a high roller at a Vegas Black Jack table. Cherry pie and black coffee so hot it makes any a la mode action melt. A blazer and trench coat in a room of flannel and windbreakers.

Happy 20th Anniversary.






The sleeve above, complete with a slice and a mug, is by Mez Love working at Tattoo Boogaloo in San Francisco, CA.

Underemployed People Fight For Their Rights!

Brooklyn, NY.
Underemployedees of South Slope coffee hotspot Gorilla Coffee walked out en masse, forcing the cafe to close it's doors. (Here are links to the stories as told by Eater and Diner's Journal) This isn't a strike. These baristas quit for good, taking the whole business down with them in a smokeless blaze of glory.

Despite their claims that this isn't political, these incensed caffeine slingers have fundamentally challenged restaurant management as it functions today. Given the bs that everyone who works in the industry puts up with on a daily basis, I can't imagine how bad it must have been in order for the employees to stop showing up. Restaurants notoriously care far more about health code than fair labor practices. You want your legally required 20 minute lunch break? As if it would occur to you to ask. Breaks every couple of hours? If you can take that many breaks, make yourself look busy so you don't get cut. The restaurant industry works its employees hard because that's how the flow of service customers so dearly care about remains smooth and steady. It isn't right, it isn't legal, but it is industry standard. Seriously, working there must have really sucked. But if it could happen at a beloved, money-making neighborhood institution, it could most certainly happen elsewhere.

To walk away from any job right now is more of a gamble than ever. Going rate for highly skilled baristas like me and the ones at Gorilla Coffee is hovering around $7.75-$9.00 an hour plus tips. Not a lot, but more than a guaranteed nothing from not showing up to work. But there's hope for these trained and newly unemployed workers: My compulsive Craigslist searching revealed that there is already a demand for ex-gorillas at a new East Village coffee shop.

I sincerely believe these baristas are fighting the good fight. Restaurateurs, take note and beware.

One does not make revolutions by halves.
-Louis de Saint-Just, The French Revolution's "Archangel of Terror"

Waking Up For Breakfast. Shifts, That is.

When I work breakfast shifts, I know I'm in for a grueling morning. When I work as a barista, I know that even if the restaurant isn't busy, every single costumer we get will order something that I make. Tea, coffee, and the fanciest espresso drinks I can muster. But the hardest part isn't the constant inflow of tickets, the nervous waiters who have to go back and tell there tables that their half-caf cortado isn't ready yet, or the fact that the barista who worked the night before didn't suitably clean the station for me. The hardest part of the job will always be getting there on time.

This morning, as ever on the hunt for quick easy money, I'm working a private breakfast event on the promise of $200. That seems strangely high for bussing tables, restocking fresh coffee, carrying trays of freshly baked pastry, and staying out of customers' way until they need me to pick up their dirty fork. But Monday morning breakfast event, here I come! Only 4 hours of work stand between me and my glorious 2 day end-of-week. No work for me till Thursday at 9 AM.

I need to be cheerful this fine morning, and I'm due in at 7:30 AM. Even this is a half hour later than when I used to come in to do opening morning shifts as a barista. Positively civil. But, as always, the single hardest part is waking up and getting out the door.

Here's how it's done.

Night before: Set alarm. Brush teeth. Double check alarm is set. Lights off. Play some soothing music, maybe a nice audiobook. Lie down. Sit up. Triple check alarm is set. Do your best to fall asleep as soon as possible because...

5:30 AM : BEEP BEEP BEEP. Turn off alarm. Make sure to hit snooze in case you don't really wake up. Let your eyes acknowledge it's still dark out.
5:45 AM : SHIT! Run to the bathroom, wash your face, make yourself look like you slept for days.
(I recommend blush, concealer, mascara and a little highlighter under the brow bone, ladies. No time? Do it on the subway. But get that done and your co-workers will think you're a "morning person.")
5:55 AM : OK. Breathe. There is time to make a turkey sandwich, since you won't be getting any sort of lunch break or meal until shift is over at 4, and turkey sandwiches are easy to stash and munch. Grab yogurt from fridge, which you should force yourself to eat on the subway ride.
6:00 AM: Must. Move. Faster. Get dressed. Look the part.
6:15 AM: You should be on the subway platform by now. Because the trains to get you out of Brooklyn are erratic this early and if you miss the 6:22 you are guaranteed to be late.
7:00 AM: You've clocked in, so make yourself a latte to nurse as you set up your station and get to work.

Wake up accidentally at 7:30? Text the supervisor ASAP. Train delayed? Get off as soon as you are in Manhattan and get in a cab and suck it up. And text the supervisor. Late without a good excuse? Make one up, and then make the supervisor the most delicious fully fatted triple shot mocha he has ever had. And make something nice for Chef too. Just in case.