E-Mail To Events Assistant

C######,

Well out of the 7 events we had on Saturday only one had a couple of problems. Nothing on your end but I thought I would give you the highlights in case you get a phone call or letter:

Ms. U was a 12:00 reservation and we had tables set for her at 224. 5,6,7 and 228. Right in front. I personally showed her and her son to their tables. Unfortunately I didn't realize you had sold prixe fixe packages for the Kid's Lunch (since they were already a special price for the food and performance it didn't occur to me) so they were seated with menus. The waiters assigned to the party figured it out pretty quickly and we took them off the tables well before the rest of her guests had arrived. At most, we were 10 minutes into the event. I assumed all was well until the first course went out.

It was then the waiters informed me that Ms. U didn't want that food and wanted to place her orders all a la carte. Obviously, considering the size of her party and the sheer volume of reservations at the time this would have been near impossible. It was then that the waiters gave me a list of menu choices written by her on pink construction paper in black magic marker. I immediately pulled her contract and went to speak with her about this but after standing next to her with papers in hand and her construction paper order she completely ignored me and continued talking to the children and her guests. She didn't appear the least bit distressed at that point so I left it alone. The 2nd course came out without incident and it was all served at once by two servers, a runner and myself.

Everything seemed fine until 3 hours after her event began and she was given a check. It was then she claimed that she didn't want to pay for the adults as they were supposed to order a la carte and they were "only served macaroni and cheese". This was a flat out lie as I never left the floor the entire afternoon and I know for a fact that every table was literally covered in food and everyone ate who wanted to. I inquired as to why she believed the adults were ordering a la carte as the BEO and the signed contract didn't say so. She claimed she discussed it "with someone" and "didn't read the contract" before signing it and "assumed that what was discussed was in there". When I made the point that the contract was 3 pages and signed by her and initialed by her in several places she then claimed she was "going on vacation" and "didn't have time" to read the contract. When I finally pressed further and asked why, if she charged a $400+ deposit and authorized charges to her credit card but had no idea what she was getting and hadn't bothered to read the menu that was included, it was then our fault that she "was dissatisfied", she then for the first time alleged that the service "was terrible" and she was unhappy with when the cake was served. In the next breath she informed me that the kids "had a great time" but she was still unsatisfied. She also claimed that she started the original booking "with someone" and then was passed over "to someone else" which is probably why "we screwed it up". Again, this was after her event had gone on for over 3 hours. If she wanted the cake served at a specific moment all she had to do was mention it. Unfortunately, I no longer have the ability to read minds. Which is a shame, by the way.

In any case, I finally decided to charge her the agreed upon price for the kids and only charge her $15 pp for the 10 adults. Apparently, my generous decision to not hold her to the charges and the agreed upon contract she signed for was lost on her. She agreed to the new charges but reiterated that she was still not happy. When I reminded her that we absolutely fulfilled every word of the contract she agreed to, that she alternately believed her entire party was a la carte and then only thought the adults were and admittedly hadn't read papers she signed and agreed to, she decided that my customer service skills were not up to par and left. I guess she didn't realize I stopped myself from calling her an unreasonable bitch.

Now, I will say that we had a ridiculous amount of reservations on the books between 12 and 1 and we had a waiter call out and a new runner, so while everyone was stretched thin I have absolutely no doubt that she had great seating, good service, plenty of hot food and the kids had a great time and several turns on the stage. It seems to me she saw a single mis-step on our part and decided to use it to weasel out of some charges. Further I assume she needed her ass kissed and I didn't budget any time in an extremely busy day and night for ass kissing. For this, I apologize.

By the way, remind me to tell you about the drunk underage girls at the Sweet 16 party, or when the teenager passed out on the banquette threw up on the dining floor, or when I cleaned up the to-go bag filled with vomit, or when S######## had to pick up the used tampon from the ladies' room floor. Now, now, I have to save something for Tuesday ....

sorry if you get a nasty phone call ....

Busta Has To Bust One Out

The thing is, he is absolutely 100% correct. If you listen to the woman, she calls out to him repeatedly and then when she doesn't get what she wants she calls him names. When Busta understandably gets upset and confronts the ill-mannered bitch, she hides behind some unseen and horribly sensitive "children". Question. What kind of example are you setting for your soon to be boorish, celebrity obsessed demon spawn when you try to meet and then verbally insult a man who only wants to use the restroom? Don't answer. I deal with them every day.

We're Hiring! Just Not This Dumb-Ass

I've been doing interviews, attempting to bolster our host and server staff. It started with an ad on Craigslist that netted around 50 emails. Of those, a mercifully small percentage were answered by people with absolutely no previous restaurant experience or seemingly no access to a computer or word processor program with spell check. Sorry, but being a "people person" that spent the last three years manufacturing dental prosthetics does not mean you are qualified to serve food, despite the dubious connection of both jobs to one's mouth. And if you "espell" with a Spanish accent I'm going to assume your English is far far worse.

I managed to do about 10 interviews last week, and offered jobs to three of them. They all accepted. The woman I hired for the host position never made it to the first day, calling in that afternoon to report "I got better offer". One of the two servers I hired did make it to the first training shift but only lasted a couple of hours. He claimed he wasn't prepared for the "whole karaoke thing". This despite the fact that I described it as a "giant, loud, busy, noisy, hectic karaoke restaurant.

The third employee turned out to be the charm. And while he had a good resume, I freely admit I originally called him because he was ex-military and spent part of the last few years teaching latin dance. I was thinking cute with a tight butt. And you know what? I'm pretty good at reading resumes. He did turn out to be cute. And very polite. That's the military training. And I dearly love a latin dance instructor that's good at taking orders. With a tight butt.

Which gives us about a 33% success rate at hiring staff, which is just about right for us. We tend to hang on to about a third of the people we hire.

So I started this week calling people I didn't get to from the first batch of responders. I got in touch with a few promising host candidates and only one or two servers. I usually leave cell number messages and many times, I get a call back while I'm on the next call. Meaning the previous person was screening, a practice I wholeheartedly understand and support. What I do not understand, however, is the jackass that decided it was somehow appropriate to respond to my phone call requesting an interview with a text message. And not just any text message. Here's what I received:

Hey wats up...im havin dinner right now...when r u lookin for

Now, this would be an appropriate response if we were trading hook-up emails on Manhunt and I was looking to give a blow job, but what kind of pin head sends a potential employer an informal, internet slang-filled, uninvited text message? Does he really think this kind of behavior will lead to a job? Or even an interview? Needless to say my answer is no.

Note to applicants: Do not text message for a job interview, unless of course you're asked. And don't start any kind of job-related message with the words "wats up".

I Wouldn't Mind A Boo ... Or Two

I LOVE MY BOO

The I Love My Boo campaign addresses young men of color by recognizing their relationships without shame. The campaign shows everyday images of young men embracing, kissing, and expressing their love for each other in public spaces. By emphasizing trust, respect and commitment, it shows that with love and self-love come responsibility — the basis for safer sex and HIV prevention.

I Took A Nap

Which sounds really dull. And probably is. But it's significant because I'm now pulling a double shift on Saturdays. I go in about 11am and work a special Saturday Kid's Lunch, and then keep going right through dinner. I leave around 1 AM and get home around 2.

Yesterday I literally didn't sit down the entire time. I even checked an email I needed while standing. I had soup for lunch and spaghetti for dinner, both while standing up. Oddly, my feet never really got tired but my head sure did. It's logistically a bit of a challenge to keep three floors of restaurant and bar up and running. I do have help. Some of them are very competent and dependable but others can sometimes cause more problems than they solve. So I spend a lot of my time bouncing from the host stands on one and two to the wait stations on two and three, along with occasional forays to all four bars. During the kid's lunch I was even the bartender. Those 8 year olds get pretty sleepy after a vodka and apple juice.

I came home, walked Jet and went right to bed. I woke up physically tired but felt OK. It was only after I took Jet on a long walk and then for a visit to the Union Square dog run this afternoon that whatever tank of gas I was running on suddenly cut out. After nodding off repeatedly siting on the couch I finally decided to give in and lay back for some serious sack out time. Three hours later I woke up as if from a coma. My already mussed up hair now going in 12 different directions.

The thing is, I don't nap. Once I'm up I'm up for the day. I don't even lay down very often. Having absolutley no sex life makes that easier. When I do on those rare occasions nod off in the afternoon, it's usually for 1/2 hour, tops. So a three hour recharge probably means The Duchess was positively worn out.

Awww.

Case Dismissed!

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Mail Call

Day before yesterday I picked up the mail and aside from the usual junk I received a letter from a rebate company. I had paid almost $300 when I got my new contact lenses, but that was for a year's supply, assuming I follow directions and change them every two weeks. I won't. I tend to change them when they get itchy or my eyes get red. Healthy? Maybe not. But it's economical, and that year's supply will last at least a year and a half. But the rest of that story was the optometrist sold me on the year's supply by mentioning they came with a slight discount and $60 dollar rebate. How could I resist?

So after getting my lenses I ended up having to practically jump through hoops to register for the promised rebate. You needed to go to the web site, fill out the rebate form, print it, cut out five contact lens box tops (NOT the UPC code) and include a receipt from the optometrist. Which I dutifully did. According to the rebate form, the check was due any day. It would really have come in handy this week.

Instead I got a rejection letter, claiming I had sent in an "ineligible" receipt. I was incensed. I went to bed that night with an angry letter half way composed in my head. I planned to accuse the rebate company of fraud and deceptive business practices. I planned to alert the optical company I purchased the lenses from as well as the eye care company that sells them. I woke up almost as angry as I went to bed, and immediately re-opened the letter, so that I could deconstruct it and see where they "ripped me off".

And then I disovered I had inadvertently included the wrong receipt in the original letter.

My rebate check should be here in approximately 4 weeks. (Sigh) It felt good to not be mad anymore.

Today's mail brought much better news. The tax return check I got and lost all in one day last month has returned. Thank you IRiS! You so speedy! I was hoping the check was lost and destroyed and not cashed so I wouldn't have to prove I wasn't the one that cashed it. Apparently, that was the case. And talk about some most welcome relief! I paid off some bills and I will hopefully finally have some extra spending money for the next few weeks.

On another note, if you want to have a look at where I'm working these days, you only have to check out this week's re-re-re-re broadcast of MTV's Making The Band 35. When the 2nd half hour of the show switches to the club, the host station and computer where Danity Kane first walks by off the elevator is where I spend my Saturday nights trying to shoehorn 500 people into not enough seats, and attempting to talk down half-crazed parents that think little Billy will hate them if they're forced to celebrate his 11th birthday dinner at a table in the balcony. Newsflash people, Billy will hate you anyway.

And inside the street level doors is where I spend every other Tuesday running the door at R&B Live. That's where hundreds of people try and convince me that they are all "artists" or "stylists" or a million other excuses where they attempt to avoid paying a simple $20 cover charge (drink ticket included) to see a 2 hour live R&B show. Eventually, I usually manage to crowbar most of their wallets open and get the cover paid. Here's a hint: If you're in line and you haven't bypassed the line, been escorted in to the guest entrance or made it to a pre-registered table list, chances are you aren't nearly as important as you think you are. And just because you give out flyers for Def Jam on Saturdays outside some club doesn't mean you are "with" Def Jam. It means you're a flyer guy.

And in case you're wondering, no, I have no idea what happened with the mic's. Yes, it really does get as crowded as it looked on TV and no, I didn't see a single second of the show that night. I was far too busy not letting people in for free.

Behind The Picture

I was surprisingly nervous, but less so when it became increasingly obvious that it would be a one-shot, get the picture, move on sort of deal. There would be no time for talking and I wouldn't even have the chance to use my own camera. Fortunately, the husband of our Events Manager was kind enough to stand and take pictures for everyone that worked in the office. They sent out e-mails to everyone with the pix attached. By the end of the weekend, everyone had replaced their Facebook main pictures with snapshots posing with The President.

I have such a goofy grin on my face. All I managed to do was extend my hand and say:

"How do you do, sir?"

"How are you doing?"

"Fine, sir. It's nice to meet you."

And that's about when the picture was snapped.

"Thank you very much sir."

I called hin "Sir" three times.

And then I got out of the way.

I was a little disappointed at first when I saw the digital proof and realized I was in profile, but after seeing everyone's facebook pictures where it's one fake pose after another, I'm kind of happy I got a more "natural" shot. Almost looks like he's about to tell me a joke or give me a toungue-kiss, doesn't it?

Still, it's kind of cool when I think about the fact that, as far as I know, no one in my immedate family has a picture of them with one of our Presidents. I'm going to make my parents a nice 8X10 shot. Hopefully, they'll think it's pretty neat too.

Bout Fuckin Time!

Legislation to Repeal the HIV Ban Moves Out of Committee for a Full Vote by the Senate

New York, NY, March 13, 2007- Immigration Equality hails the first major step in fifteen years to repeal the ban on HIV-positive foreign nationals entering the United States. The provision to repeal the ban is included in legislation to reauthorize the President's Emergency Plan for AIDS Relief (PEPFAR), a comprehensive effort to address global HIV/AIDS issues. PEPFAR was voted out of the Foreign Relations committee today and will proceed to a vote by the full Senate. For over two decades, the United States has excluded both HIV-positive travelers and "green card" applicants who are HIV-positive.

"The United States has enforced this antiquated policy for too long with no public health rationale for discriminating against HIV-positive people in such a severe manner." said Victoria Neilson, Immigration Equality's Legal Director. "Immigration Equality and the coalition of activists fighting against the ban are encouraged that years of hard work resulted in this major step. We are confident that this vote by the full Senate will be successful and will move the United States one step closer to lifting the HIV immigration ban."

"We appreciate the support by the Senate Committee on Foreign Relations and now urge the full Senate to repeal this unjust and sweeping policy that deems HIV positive individuals inadmissible to the United States," said Human Rights Campaign (HRC) President Joe Solmonese. "There remains no public health rationale for treating HIV more harshly than other communicable diseases. This draconian policy must end." HRC, America's largest civil rights organization working to achieve lesbian, gay, bisexual, and transgender (LGBT) equality, worked with Immigration Equality on this issue.

HIV is the only medical condition singled out in the Immigration and Nationality Act as a ground of inadmissibility - creating unnecessary stigma and discrimination against foreign nationals who are HIV-positive. If passed, the PEPFAR bill will remove the anti-HIV language from the statute and restore the determination of whether HIV is "communicable disease of public health significance," to the discretionof the Department of Health and Human Services (HHS).

In 1987, Senator Jesse Helms offered the ban as an amendment to a bill to fund availability of the antiretroviral drug Zidovudine (AZT). The law passed almost unanimously by Congress, in part as a political trade to obtain the funds for AZT.

In April 1989, Dutch AIDS educator Hans Verhoef was jailed for several days in St. Paul, Minnesota when he tried to enter the United States to attend the Conference on Retroviruses and Opportunistic Infections in San Francisco. This led to international outrage and a boycott of the conference by activists in 1990. No international conference on HIV/AIDS has been held in the United States since then.


In October 1992, the ban led to the quarantine of about one hundred HIV-positive Haitians at a U.S. Naval Base in Guantanamo Bay, once again sparking outrage by the international and human rights communities. In 1993, President Bill Clinton tried to issue an Executive Order to eliminate the ban and brought the issue into the political spotlight once more.

At the urging of Senator Helms the ban was codified by Congress in 1993, as a climate of fear about HIV and prejudice toward HIV-positive people continued.



The policy which was rooted in the homophobia of Senator Helms, continues to disproportionately affect LGBT individuals since close family relationships with U.S. citizens or lawful permanent residents are generally required to seek waivers and same-sex relationships are not recognized under current immigration law.


Immigration Equality has been a longtime national leader in the fight to lift the ban. As the only national organization fighting for the rights of LGBT and HIV-positive immigrants, Immigration Equality worked to create a comprehensive plan to lift the ban that included advocacy, public education and legal assistance. In anticipation of the vote, Immigration Equality is reaching out to key supporters in the Senate and working with other allies to ensure passage.


"When the United States finally stops discriminating against HIV-positive people we will send a powerful signal to the world that it's not acceptable to stigmatize the millions of people living with this disease." say Ms. Neilson "With today's news, we feel that moment is drawing near."

Names, Sweetie! Give Me Names!

Quite the star-studded evening here at the work place. I'll start with the second event, which was a celebration for one of the lead performers in the musical Hairspray, who had just completed her 1000th performance in that show. And while I have no clue who she was, there were all kinds of B-Listers in attendance. Most of them are currently doing a turn in the show.

George Wendt was putting in some time at the bar. I was happy to see him in spite of the fact that he had replaced my old friend and fellow Buffalo native Paul Vogt in the role of Edna. At one point he inquired if I knew a place to smoke outside. I have no reason to think he didn't mean cigarettes. So I showed him to the staff elevator and up to the Penthouse level so he could enjoy a smoke on the Broadway balcony. He was most appreciative, and also, not a small man by any stretch of the imagination. A heart attack waiting to happen. But nice.

Jim J Bullock was out and about. As far as I can tell, he's not even in the current cast but maybe he had nothing to do. It's got to be pretty boring to be a Hollywood Square in a world of round holes. He's a tad doughy but still looks like himself. No work done that I can see.

One of my door gays was absolutely ecstatic that Ashley Parker Angel was in attendance. He's so dreamy he needs three names. I wondered why a pack of teen aged girls were pressed up against the window while the photographers were getting press shots. Cute enough for a white boy I suppose.

But all that kind of pales in comparison to an ex-President (cover your eyes Mike!). The first party of the night was some kind of Irish Democratic fundraiser for HRC. Herself was not in attendance, as she was busily trying to pander to the peeps in Pennsylvania, but most of us, even us politically apathetic types, were pretty well and truly exited that Bill Clinton came instead. Despite what many might think, even I couldn't be all aloof and jaded when the freakin' former President of the United States comes by to give a short speech and shake hands with about 100 folks he never met. And while he did come up to the Penthouse to meet whatever "VIP's" had paid for the privilege, he most graciously met, shook hands and posed for pictures with the owners, the entire management staff and everyone that works in the back office of the restaurant/nightclub. Including yours truly. It was rather impersonal, and that's an observation not a criticism, as these things are basically just a receiving line of people shaking hands and posing. Although he did ask many people their names or a brief question. But it was still pretty exciting. I was actually kind of speechless, which for me is highly unusual.

There is at least one picture. I'll post it as soon as it comes in.

Nice Job Dumb-Ass

Thanks, Federal Government!

Federal Government Awards New York City $100 Million To Treat HIV/AIDS

March 04, 2008

The city is getting some much-needed help from the federal government to assist the growing number of residents living with HIV and AIDS.

The U.S. Department of Health and Human Services has awarded the city more than $102 million dollars in funding through the Ryan White AIDS Act.

Senator Charles Schumer says the money is desperately needed to assist the increasing number of New Yorkers who are living longer with HIV and AIDS.

The funding will provide a number of health services, including medical care and drug treatments.

I Think My Dog Is A Jew

So yesterday afternoon I was taking Jet for a regular walk around the park. It was a relatively cold and quiet day, and there were very few people with or without their animals out at the time. There was, however an older woman walking through the park with what looked like a Yorkie of some sort. I'm honestly not into purebred dogs. As a matter of fact, I much prefer a mixed breed animal. Mutts are traditionally more interesting and for the most part, less high maintenance. Purebred animals can sometimes have a whole host of health problems, many associated with inbreeding or careless breeding. I'm hardly an expert on the subject. Mostly I was concerned with how unpredictable my own little angel can be in public. Most times he ignores or barely notices other dogs, sometimes he is highly defensive or aggressive, and kicks up a huge fuss. It's totally a show, and I know if I ever let him loose he wouldn't get beyond the charge. But as I was silently relieved that Jet paid the Yorkie no mind, the woman asked me what kind of dog he was.

"Is that a Canaan?"

Sorry?

"A Canaan. Is that a Cannan?"

Oh! I'm prety sure it's a cattle dog.

"A Canaan is a cattle dog. It looks like a Canaan."

I'm really not sure. I was told that the vet said he was a mixed breed, mostly Australian cattle dog.

"A Canaan is an Isreali breed and he looks just like that. JFK had a Canaan."

Cool. I'll look it up when I get home.

I was intrigued and made a mental note to check it out. I had actually heard of a Canaan breed just recently. I believe I read about how they were bred from feral dogs indigenous to Isreal. They were used and trained by the Isreali army as guard dogs, messengers and by the Red Cross as helper animals. If my dog was a Canaan I would love it. But I didn't get the chance to look it up. Until today, when a completely different woman with a completely different HUGE white dog asked me the same question.

"Is that a Cannan?"

Wow. That's weird. Someone just asked me that.

"He's adorable. He looks like a Canaan."

As soon as I got to work I looked up the breed. There are many different variations on the coloration but I think I found what they were talking about:



That's purebred Calah on the top left, and Jet on the bottom. He's not quite as tall as the purebreed, but the markings are pretty convincing. There are other examples that have the same spotted legs as Jet does, too.

So I think my dog might be a Jew. Which could explain why he refuses to go out on Friday after sundown. Last week I was gone all afternoon and when I returned, my computer was on and Michael Lucas' blog was displayed. Then just the other day I asked him if he wanted to go for a walk. He just looked away, and let out a dramatic sigh.

I could swear he was trying to say: "Never mind. Don't bother. I'll just sit here. Alone. In the dark. You go ...."

But maybe it was just my imagination.

Meanwhile ...

Don't think I've ever gone an entire week without posting since this blog began. And it's not that I'm running out of things to say. Far from it. The last week I've composed at least a half dozen partial posts in my head.

But I'm having some time management issues. I'm one of those people that lets work slowly creep in and take over more and more of their lives. Especially if I enjoy what I'm doing. And while I'm trying to draw a line and not let work become my whole life, I am spending a lot of my time and energy working or thinking about work or preparing for work. I'm completely aware that throwing yourself into your work is pretty much a guarantee that your personal life will suffer. But since I really have no personal life to speak of, no worries, eh? And yes, I get that I've described a blatant rationalization.

In case you can't tell, I've grown strangely introspective of late. And that's another reason why I've been having trouble getting a post up for you. I'm having trouble articulating what I'm feeling. Not that it's particularly negative or complicated. OK, it is rather complicated. Mostly because I don't know where it's coming from and I'm not sure what it means. And if that sounds rather vague and cryptic well, there's another reason I haven't posted all week. I thought it would be rather masturbatory of me to post up an on-line extended session of navel-gazing.

Of course, there are some that would say that's basically blogging in a nutshell.I'm not entirely sure I would disagree.

I've been keeping busy doing a little work around the apartment. Nothing too radical or expensive. Last week I was out pricing a project at the Homo Depot and stopped on the way home at my local Walgreen's. Have I mentioned how much I love Walgreen's? One of the main reasons is they're open 24 hrs. Plus, you can always find some 99cent plush Easter Bunny on sale that would be perfect for a certain man's best friend. Of course, after he greatfully accepted his new little stuffed companion, he proceeded to carefully remove both of his little black eyeballs. He ate his little ribbon tie too, but the eyeballs were the first to go.

Exhibit A:
The white stuff coming out of the eye socket on the right is either cotton or stuffed bunny brain matter. Take your pick.

Tuesday Is My Monday

After a fantastic weekend where I cooked some great meals for this week, finished making the cutest spice rack, replaced some rotting molding in the bathroom and even managed to drop off the laundry and get in a Gay-A meeting and a cardio workout I'm back at work, slaving over payroll spreadsheets and answering e-mails.

The only thing that marred the weekend was when poor Jet got stressed from all the hammering and pounding that it made him sick. Before I knew it he had thrown up all over the couch and twice on my bed. It was gross and I felt very guilty. At one point he let me know he was in distress and rather than stop I shooed him away, only to find him heaving and trying to eat it up at the same time. Poor guy.

I was extra nice to him this morning and he seems none the worse for wear. Besides, dogs throw up a lot. I don't think they find it nearly as traumatic as we do.

I won't be dropping off this particular bag of laundry.

We Are The World?

My First Call!

Comes in from Tommy down in the Real Lower South, Louisiana. If you've always wondered what the man from the "Bricks On The Red" sounds like, now's your chance to hear his voice. I think he sounds kind of sexy. And I love being called "Hunny". Give a listen:



I'll record an outgoing message for you to hear sometime Sunday during my day off