Burdens, disillusionment, and management.

There's a relatively new manager at the place I work. There's something about her. I'm not sure I can boil it down to a single word. It's a kindness. A determination to satisfy everyone. I've seen it before in others new managers. And ultimately it withers. Because you can't please everyone. As a manager you have three bodies you deal with. Your customers, your employees, and your bosses.  And it's impossible to satisfy all three. Eventually you're going to have to say "fuck it" to someone. Some managers say "fuck it" to the employees. They put up a wall and guard themselves from personal investment. They don't care about individual fairness, rules are rules. Others take a different approach. They'll roll their eyes at asinine corporate policies. They think about their job from the employees perspective. Some say "fuck it" to all three. These ones have checked out. There was a manager at a place I worked named Steve. He often was drunk on shift and I believe the only joy he got was talking to children with finger puppets the hosts used to give away.

I've seen this disillusionment so clearly. At the aforementioned establishment, the owners did away with the middle management and replaced it with a robust management staff. Two of the middle managers took promotions to full management and there was an air of hope. These two middle managers spent years as servers, they would be our voice in the paradigm's new direction.  But just as one of the other managers was preparing to take maternity leave, another was fired. The staff of five became a staff of three. Never have I ever seen someone as over worked as those three. Over the next few months, I would witness idealistic determination buckle under burden and finally crumble into apathy.

Eventually a new manager, Matt, was brought on. The process of finding and training him almost exactly coincided with the return of the manager on maternity leave. However, Matt never seemed to get the hang of it. He always seemed behind the curb. I pitied him. Granted he had a beautiful wife and two adorable children. But his suit was never tailored and he commanded no presence. The fact that he came to me for advice on food allergies, at first was fine. But a few months into the job, this persisted and it robbed me of confidence in him. I left that place for New York not too long after that so I don't know if he ever found his grove.

For this new manager, I'm not convinced I've seen the true her. I'm seeing someone still putting their best mask on. It's a noble effort. But ultimately I am not convinced it can persist.  I can see the exhaustion wearing at her. Hopefully, soon she'll get the "hang of it." Because it's really only then, when you fully understand the goings on of the restaurant, are you really able to be the manager your true personality will let you become.  So until I see her with her mask discarded, whether it be from frustration or from finally owning the position, I cannot trust her.


Today's song:
The Ravonettes - Hallucinations
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mw91tPJyPyI

Racy Days

"It's gone. I had it for just a second. Or rather I let myself believe I had it. And that's what's dangerous. That belief. It's crippling. The feeling it's gone. And I'm so much less the man for it. I promised myself I wouldn't fall for it again." -From a play I have yet to write.

I am starting to see my life become routine and I have to fight that. I have to always keep at the forefront why I'm here. I've said before that this city is full of people with dreams. And I can see how people get trapped in their routine and lose sight of their dream. I sent my a friend and his wife my most recent play. The wife, Madison, said some very kind works. "Well first of all I did NOT intend to sit down and read your WHOLE play tonight. So I think the fact that I did is GREAT news for you!" It was a little jarring. Sent a little jolt, reminding me that I should spend more time writing and less time memorizing the ingredients in the menu items in the new restaurant. 


I can see how people get pissed off in this city, so I'm striving to keep a log of things worth inspiring or just generally positive things. Today:
Michelle.  She's a girl I work with. She's only been at my restaurant a few months more than me but I'm ready to label her the "mother" of Isabella's. She bought doughnuts for a girl at work cause it was the day after her birthday. Michelle is always looking out for everyone. She's got a heart the size of Texas and the brain of an Ivy Leaguer. A true force to be reckoned with. 


Today's song:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yvN9AGmh8Fs&feature=fvst

Been a while.

I've been living in New York for more than two months now and I can honestly say I love it. For those who don't know, I'm living in an apartment on the upper west side of Manhattan a block away from Central Park, three blocks from a metro station, and about five blocks from a Whole Foods and a Michaels. Granted I've not started painting again, but once I do, the Michaels will be a valuable resource.

This city is fantastic. Yes, there is a lot to be pissed off about. Public enemy number one: Duane Reade the most overpriced of all convenience stores. They never restock anything (I went to three in one day to find a legal pad, a legal pad!) and the clerks don't pay attention to you. But as much as there is to be pissed off about, there always seems to be something to make up for it. In Seattle, I'd write at my local Starbucks or I'd journey to the U-district. Here every Starbucks is packed and a lot of them don't have power outlets so people don't stay on their laptops all day.  But Starbucks' loss is Central Park and Tissire's gain. The former - I never though I'd enjoy writing outside, the latter - a little known 7th avenue coffee house that no one goes to because it's next door to a Starbucks. At first glance, you'd think it's a little pastry cafe, but turns out there there is an expansive back area that no one enters. Perfect for solitude.

I've been seeing Broadway shows by rushing them. I can't believe I'm seeing first run premiers from playwrights like Mammet, Gurgis, and Lindsay-Abaire. I've even written reviews for some of them.
http://culturemob.com/manhattan-theatre-clubs-good-people-asks-what-makes-a-person-good
http://culturemob.com/review-the-motherfker-with-the-hat
Walking out of them gives me the awe and fullness not experienced since childhood. Ben Stiller was 4 feet away from me as he choked the life out of Edie Falco in The House of Blue Leaves.


But given the theatre, beautiful women (and I mean both physical and mental,) the architecture, Central Park, and the intangible but undeniable energy that you can just feel some days walking around, my favorite thing here are the dreams. Everyone's got one and everyone's here to fight for it. The people of this city are here to go after what they've always wanted. The door man has a script. Your waitress is an actor. I've met more dancers on the subway than I ever did in Meany Studio. It's both encouraging and intimidating. But it makes me feel like I'm in the right place.

Current song:
DCFC: My Mirror Speaks
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UPLlCcE-Dq8