Mother's Day

was a mother that's for sure. Since it is usually a big brunch day we're typically slow for dinner (we don't do brunch, so no worries there). We revived a promotion we did a few years ago. Mom eats for free. Bring mom out to dinner and her meal is on us, the only hitch; one paying customer per mom. It worked. A little too well.

I look around a full dining room at 6 pm and wonder where our male busser might be. He's usually a few minutes early. At 6:05 I call the number we have for him and it's not his phone. I call the GM, but her phone is doing strange things (although I don't know this at the time). I call another busser to see if she has his number, her grandma answers and says she's not home. I'm getting a little panicky. Things are starting to get rocky.

The one busser we have on the floor is a painfully thin, doe-eyed young woman who is not going to be up to doing this alone. She's constantly got an upset stomach (think bulimia) and doesn't have much in the initiative department. Why is she with us you ask? Well, you don't know people until you hire them and after we hire, we try to address the problems they bring. Some people work through their baggage, some don't. We're going to lay out the program for her today.

The busser whose grandma answered, the truth challenged one, called back and said she was just getting ready to go swimming but she'd come down. Thank god. However, the kitchen is getting backed up. I've only got three guys on the line. My mistake in scheduling. I have this naive idea that these cooks should be organized and prepared enough to handle a busy night. I'm certainly paying them enough to be organized.

The second busser arrives. I look in the kitchen and see a stick figure drooling into the hand sink. I tell her to get out and start bussing tables.

"I just threw up in the sink".

"I don't have time for your bulimic crap right now, we need to reset tables."

And she had thrown up, big chunks in the hand sink. And was going to leave it there. I told her to go back and clean up the sink.

"I'm not bulimic."

"I believe you."

A bit later when things calmed down for a micro-second I said, "I'm sorry I yelled earlier. I'm sorry you're not feeling well. We do however, have work to do."

"I'm not bulimic."

"Ok. Look at it from my perspective though. I see a teen-aged girl whose legs are skinnier than my arms, who rarely eats a shift meal, when she does it's usually a dessert, who has constant problems with her stomach involving throwing up. What does that sound like to you?"

"I eat all the time, ask my parents. I'm not bulimic. I'm going to the doctor. It's not my fault I'm sick."

"No it's not. It's mine either."

Later.

"I just want you to know, I'm not bulimic. I'm a Christian, and the Bible says, respect your body."

"OK, case closed. You're not bulimic."

At home, I pull up the concordance to see what the Bible says about work. Because in addition to her stomach issues, she's been complained about by every waiter and busser. I have my doubts about her longevity.

Oh, and she's bulimic.

Comments

[Jennifer Jeffrey]

You really think she's bulimic? ;-)

[kudzu]

Ah, so that's why it's
called Mothering Sunday.

[heather]

bulimics usually take great pains to hide their disease. and if you do fire her, don't fire her for that because that is ridiculous -- you don't fire someone for being bulimic. of course, that is what she will think you're firing her for because you've accused her of it. i'm glad you're not my boss, you insensitive prick. karma will get you for this one.

[haddock]

Wow- now I'm an insensitive prick. Heather, I suggest you go through the archives and look at what I have to say about the people who work for me before you start tossing insults. Or better yet, talk to some of my employees, present or former.

If we were to fire this young woman it would have nothing to do with bulimia, real, imagined, or otherwise. It would be because she isn't doing her job.

[Joe Fish]

I've got a great idea, let's hold everyone in the world's hand right down into the gutter. And people wonder why india is handing our butt to us.

FYI, heather, haddock- whom I've never met- is obviously a saint of a boss, and if I had worked in his restaurant, I might still be in the business. Send us a postcard of the view from Mount Olympus, things are lonely down here on earth.

[shuna fish lydon]

The most difficult thing about being the boss of humans is knowing where to draw the line between "mothering" and managing. I do know that I once made the awful mistake of being very hard on an employee I thought was lazy but, unbeknown to her (& I) she had cancer and died 6 months later.

Recently, though, I took aside an employee to talk to her about her self mutilation. She was struck by my care, and although I am not capable of "saving her," she now knows that there's someone around who can empathize.

I know you know the dangers of calling out an employee on their "medical issues" whether they be "self-imposed" or not. And I also know your frustration. I used to work in a kitchen where I was the only employee out of dozens who did not show up to work every weekend hungover.

Unfortunately for them, I was a mere lowly gm cook. Incapable of covering for those calling in from jail.