I work in a seasonal restaurant, in a small town. It’s on the coast and it’s beautiful. Postcard beautiful. In fact my restaurant is postcard beautiful.
It’s on the first floor of a boutique hotel with 12 rooms upstairs.
So we’re seasonal. Which means that business changes as the weather changes. In the summer time we are mad busy. Tonight we did 888 people. In January we are slow. There’ll be nights we do 25 people.
The other thing about working in a seasonal restaurant is that the clientele changes as well. In the summer we get tourists. Local tourists from Massachusetts. New Hampshire. Vermont. A little farther away like Toronto and Quebec. And then you’d be surprised how many people are from really far a way like the middle of the country, California, and Europe. It’s surprising to me how people end up in my little town.
In the winter we get locals. People who actually live in the area all year. They like to remind you that they are local. Sometimes they are so forward as to ask for discounts, and seating priority because they are locals. Most do not, but some do. They NEVER get rewarded for telling us this.
The whole point is that a server tonight, who look like they were having a particularly bad night, told me when I asked her what was wrong that it was nothing more than the clientele. The tourists. Adam has told me the same thing. Depending on where the crowd is from they are demanding, difficult, and a real pain in the ass, and often not tipping well to go along with it. We had those guests tonight.
I had a couple complain when I wouldn’t give them a six top to eat at because they said our two tops were too small. I had a guy ask me if he could move the banquet booth against the wall and replace it with two chairs. I had a guy tell me that he should NOT have to wait three hours for a table because well, he just shouldn’t have to. I had a Canadian table get upset when they arrived for their reservation with 15 people instead of 12 when I told them we could only seat 12 of them. The other three were on their own. It was just a bizarre night. Not a bad night. Just bizarre.
What’s funny is that tomorrow will be a completely different crowd. I told my server that. We’ll have those same tourists at lunch but by dinner the locals will start venturing out because they know the town will be empty and we’ll see people we haven’t seen in months. Lunch will be busy. I expect dinner to be very quiet. I’m looking forward to it.
I’ll let you know tomorrow how it goes. In the meantime I’m going to finish my bourbon on the rocks and then go to bed.