:: Life on Planet Dan-E ::
Thoughts, observations, and introspections from an
:: Sunday, August 10, 2008 ::
Labels: idiots, job search, moving on, waiting Labels: drugs, job search, moving on Labels: bartending, cheeseburger, job search, moving on, the gay wingman, waiting, whiskey
:: Friday, February 08, 2008 ::
Well the rumors about Swanky Trendy Restaurant closing proved to be true, only it happened much later than any of us expected. We all knew it was coming. The owners are planning on putting all their resources into opening a new high-end steakhouse just across the street and they didn't want to the competition. When I first heard the rumor, it was early May, then late May, then it became late June. Some of the staff found other jobs, few of the guys stayed. Jed stuck around since his employment is guaranteed at this new place and he'll be grandfathered in as the head waiter.
Otherwise, the few of us left kept working as if nothing happened. There was a lot of talk about when we'll close and whether or not we wanted to help open the new place. A few wanted in. I was split, though leaning towards "nah" mostly because the GM is a colossal douchbag and I can't stand the idiot. What most of us were worried about was the amount of time between the old place closing and the new place opening. Ideally there wouldn't be more than two weeks so we wouldn't be strapped for cash but construction in Miami is perpetually delayed. I finally heard that there would be a three-week gap, which anyone who's familiar with the area would know that translates to four weeks to three months.
Management tried to keep this under wraps but this was the worst kept secret in a long history of worst kept secrets. The thinking was just in case the staff might be tempted to snatch a bottle of wine or something, which was utter bullshit (I prefer Scotch). I had a feeling that night was close to being our last since we were 86 half the wine list, Bacardi, several high-end vodkas and we were down to four bottles of sparkling water. The timing was a little odd since we had over 300 covers the night before, and we were consistently busy. That Sunday, I sold over $2000 without breaking a sweat and walked home with almost half my rent.
The asshole GM, who knew we were closing, went so far as to print out fake schedules for the following week. I couldn't help but laugh at this but I'm just happy not to be working for that pile of human garbage any more so I wasn't too broken up when I got the call from him the next day that Swank was "officially closed for business." He said he'd call me and let me know when the new place is ready but in the meantime I have a "three week vacation." Great, I thought. He's gonna call me in September. I had about three months worth of savings so I wasn't too worried.
Right after he called I went on Craigslist and started looking. I found a few postings for good places, one of those being a well-established steakhouse. They were holding interviews the next day at 2pm. I updated my resume and printed some out that night. I looked up steakhouse's website and did a little research about the history, menu, wine list, etc.
I get dressed and show up at 2:00 exactly. There's already about eight people ahead of me and I wonder if I should have arrived sooner. I start filling out my application, which didn't include a food and wine quiz (which I hoped for since I now know wine regions in France and Italy... thanks again Joo). The GM starts the interviews about 5 minutes later and the first few applicants are in and out in less than three minutes each. I was a little worried at first since I'm not sure if I'll be able to sell myself in such short a time. I find out later that the first few were fresh off the boat girls who were either under-qualified or tried to get hired by showing a lot of cleavage.
It's finally my turn. I'm nervous. I introduce myself, and he looks over my resume. You worked at [Swank]? That's a good place, why are leaving?” Because they closed. "Really?!"
We talk a little about my experience there, and I give him the highlights. He scans further down and sees I have bar experience which is good because he expects me to pick up a bar shifts, which would be really cool. We discuss my wine knowledge, which is decent. I know my Californians, some Australian, New Zealand and a little French, but they have an extensive Italian selection. No problem, I could learn.
He asks if I could come back later in the day to talk to the floor manager so he could get an impression of me which I'm fine with, since any sort of second interview is a good step (though I've been asked back before and that didn't work out so I wasn't overly enthralled). Just then the floor manager walks in. The GM asks me to hang out for a little bit to see if we can just do it now. Of course. (What else was I gonna say?)
After a few minutes, the FM introduces himself and we talk. He goes a little more in-depth with the food - I passed the impromptu steak quiz - and wine but he's also responsible for the bar so he ask me questions about liquor and mixed drinks. I know how to make all the popular drinks (cosmos, mjoitos, manhattans, etc.) but he seemed impressed with my knowledge of whiskies. "I'm glad you mentioned this because I've worked with some people who were waiters for over five years and they couldn't name me one Single-malt Scotch."
The interview ends and we all shake hands and they tell me that I'll hear from them by Friday. Great, I think. Solid interview, but I've heard that before. I'm only one of the first few applicants. They're doing interviews until four and then they'll do it all again Thursday so with all the available help out there, they might find someone more qualified. Still, I'm cautiously optimistic and I feel pretty good the rest of the day. I spend the rest of the week looking mostly online since this time of year it's hard to find work because it's slow everywhere. I interview at a sports bar and I send out my resume to several places but most of them don't seem promising.
I get a call Friday and it's the GM of the steakhouse. I'm in. I start my training on Monday at 4pm sharp. When I hang up, I clap my hands and do a couple of fist pumps. AWESOME. I don't have to look for a job any more and I missed only one week of work (well, two if you count training).
I enjoy the rest of the weekend and look forward to my new job. That's in the next post.
:: Miscellaneous Ramblings by Dan-E at 9:20 PM [+] ::
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Applications I've filled out: 8
Resume and coverletter revisions: 2
Hours spent outdoors walking from restaurant to restaurant: 8
Liters of Diet Coke and ice water chugged to stave off dehydration: 6+
Possible dead ends: 3
Possible strong leads: 2
The possibility that I'll have two job offers tomorrow: Priceless
My first stop today was at the Irish place I mentioned earlier. My buddy apparently put in such a strong recommendation that the interview almost seemed like a formality. After I told her I could start immediately, she told me that she'd call me Saturday as to when I'd be start my training.
Everything happened so fast that I barely had time to celebrate. I didn't get to ask many questions, nor did she ask me about my strong or weak points. Which leads me to believe that unless I blow the doors off the place, I'll look bad and my buddy might lose credibility. Nothing like a little pressure, right?
Still, I wanted keep as many options open as possible so I went to another hotel Open House on Ocean Drive. This one was considerably more organized than the last two I went to, which was a good sign. I fill out my application and waited around for my name to be called. And waited. And waited. I noticed a woman who showed up after me get called in for the one on one so I wondered what was up. I realized then that maybe I should have handed the application back after I was done with it. Oops. At least the lady running Open House had a sense of humor about it.
It was warm so I grab a bottle of water for us and wait. While I'm waiting, I see a guy wearing his cook’s uniform walk up to the manager and ask for an application. He turns around and it's a guy at my old job. Did he get fired too? Wouldn't surprise me. I talk to him for a little bit. He's there to get a second job and make a little extra money. That's cool. I wish him luck.
A tall blonde woman wearing a pantsuit walks over the our area and asks, "is there a Dan... E, here?" I get up, shake her hand and she leads me inside where there's air conditioning. We go through the interviewing motions, and it vaguely reminds me of my experience getting interviewed at Starbucks. She asks me various questions and takes notes of my answers. She tells that it's a very corporate environment and that I would have to cut my hair and shave my goatee. My first though was "umm, yeah... bite me." My actual response, was "If that's what it takes, it won't be a problem." Especially if this place ends up hiring me for whatever reason, nothing else comes through, and the choice is cut my hair or move back with my parents, then hand me the sheers. A question she asked me was what makes me different from our other applicants.
"Well, I'm not some actor/model/promoter wannabe looking for something on the side till I get my big break. I'm here because I want to work. I have a strong with ethic, I show up, I'm always healthy so I never miss a shift. I'm even tempered so I won't freak out if it gets too busy. And I'm friendly without being overbearing."
"I see."
"Oh, I don't do any drugs."
She smiles at that and makes additional notes. "That's good to know, especially here in Miami."
There are a few more questions, and I ask a few. Afterwards, we shake hands again and I leave. It was only two interviews so far but it's been productive so far. I'm going to be okay. Just to make sure I have as many options as possible, I stop by a couple of other places and drop off my resume before heading home.
I feel pretty good. Two days, eight places, and two solid leads. I think I'm going to be okay.
:: Miscellaneous Ramblings by Dan-E at 5:38 PM [+] ::
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:: Wednesday, February 06, 2008 ::
After I got home last night, I sat in my chair for a minute, still a little numb. Oddly, I wasn't worried about my finances or my living situation as much as I was wondering what The Hostess is going to think once she arrives at work and discovers I was fired. Stupid, right?
Anyway, I snap out of it, and start typing out last night's post. It's about 7:20 and I decide to go play some tennis to blow off some steam. So far, my mental state has gone from shock (I'm fired? Over that?) to denial (they'll call me in a couple of days because they'll be short-staffed) to acceptance (whatever, I'll be fine. I started hating that place anyway). But while walking to the park, acceptance slowly boiled into fury (if they're going to fire me over that shit, fuck them). During warm-ups my first few forehands flew to the back of the fence without bouncing. As much as I tried, I couldn't get that day's events out of my head and it got to me. Bad shots seemed that much worse, near misses didn't seem close, and even my good points made me angrier (why can't you play like that all the time you hack?) It's a miracle I never had an ulcer. Oddly enough, that anger seemed to fuel my inner Federer and I actually played well, considering.
I come home and take an extra-hot shower hoping it would clear my head. I sat at my desk, opened up my resume and begin updating it. I finish, move on to the cover letter, finish that, and head over the Kinkos. Then I check out Craigslist for any possible leads. An Open House at the Raleigh Hotel looks promising. It starts at noon, which is perfect. It's located up on Collins and 18 and after, I can make my way down Lincoln Road and see who’s hiring. I'll grab a New Times (new issue every Thursday) on the way over and see what they have in the back.
I leave and walk briskly towards Washington. Two blocks away, I realize I forgot to bring a pen. I don't remember if I wrote about this, but many times at my last job, applicants would often walk in asking for about work in less than professional attire. Many times they wouldn't even have their own pen, and several waiters took the liberty make a note on the application regarding that error. I never did that but I found it annoying.
And now here I am without a pen.
I stop by LeeAnn drugs and buy a nice Pilot rollerball and it was the best $2.50 I spent in a while. Once at the Raleigh, I walk up to the counter and ask about the Open House. The desk clerk gets a pained look on his face and tells me that someone other than the hotel posted the ad as a prank and that there is no Open House. Okay, what the FUCK. "Are you still hiring?" "Yes, you can fill out an application and someone from human resources will review them." Fine. I take my application outside and fill it out in the patio, enjoy the warm weather and the cool breeze, while wondering what the hell my immediate future holds. When I walk back inside, the lobby is filled with applicants and the poor clerk's look went from pained to constipated. I staple my cover letter, resume, and application together and turn it in, then turn to the lobby to get a look at my "competition." It's mostly guys, and most of them showed up wearing jeans and T-shirts, and a few are sporting caps. I only notice two other who brought separate resumes. There are a couple of girls, one who's dressed professionally, and another who looks like she's about to clubbing, sporting some very nice cleavage. It's then I think to myself, "maybe I'll be okay."
The only thing I've had so far that day was some grapes and a can of Rockstar. I'm more thirsty than hungry so I go to Burger King to with my New Times, grab a soda, and see what's available. There's a few promising leads and I tear out the pages and head to stop number two.
Number two is another Hotel on James Ave. Their only opening is for a part-time bartender, but I apply anyway. Nothing remarkable about that place except this: when I walk into their spacious lobby, it's filled with women. Attractive women. Hot women. Everywhere. And I'm the only dude. I've had dreams like this. The least pretty would rate as "yeeaaah, give me two drinks and I'd do her" while the hottest rated as "I would drag my balls through a firepit just to hump her shadow." I don't know what they were doing there (other than the fact that maybe God hates me... I don't even know what that means) but I focus on my task at hand. I get an application, fill it out, attach my papers, and walk out. As I'm walking out, I notice a bleach-blonde Latin chick looking at me. When we make eye contact, she smiles and I smile back... and I almost walk into the doorframe. Smooth, Dan-E. Very Smooth. You idiot.
The next stop would be the most fruitful. It's at another hotel on Collins, and unlike the Raleigh, their Open House ad was legit. I'm there five minutes early and grab an application, but the guy doesn't show up until about 2:40. In the meantime, I'm chatting up a couple of girls who are also there to apply. There's a friendly blonde that seems promising (so much for focus) and I'm making progress until the interviewer finally shows up. Asshole. He turns out to be a friendly enough guy. At first it's only four of us so he does group interviews. My first question is what goes into a Long Island Iced Tea (vodka, gin, rum, tequila, a splash of sour mix and coke, lemon wedge garnish... but I forgot the Triple Sec. I don't know why but I always forget the Triple Sec.) He asks me to make the ultimate margarita (2oz. of a good, Añejo tequila, fresh juice of two limes, 1oz. Gran Marnier; on the rocks with a salt rim. You need a salt rim. Don't argue with me.) Suddenly, our foursome triples in number and he sits us all down and addresses us all on what the company is doing, and what he expects of us. He'll does a quick one-on-one with us, and the blonde goes first. I'm next. We go through my job history, he asks if my name is really spelled "Dan-E," and a few other things about serving and bartending. I guess he likes me enough that he tells me he'll call on Saturday to let me know when I can start training.
SCORE!
I'm stoked. I shake his hand vigorously, and I walk away with a big smile. Awesome. Hired on the spot. It was about 3:15 when that happened and it's when Gay Wingman finally wakes up and calls me to ask how I'm doing. I tell him what happened and he's happy for me.
Not much else happens at the other places I apply at. I stop by an Italian place, a sports bar, a regular bar, and a beer and wine bar. Once I reach Alton Road and head towards home, I check my phone, which I kept on "silent" the whole time.
Remember my buddy, who offered me a job as a supervisor and works at an Irish tavern? I called him the night before just to ask him if he had any openings. He left a couple of texts, saying no promises, but I'll see what's available. When it's all said and done, he ended up telling his boss about me, and she wants to meet me. And now I have an interview tomorrow at noon at his restaurant.
This is awesome. It's nice to have options. Though if I end up working a the Irish place, I'll have to buy this guy a beer. Or maybe a bottle Jack Daniels. Whatever, he's good people. We'll have to wait till the weekend to see what happens. I can't wait.
:: Miscellaneous Ramblings by Dan-E at 12:01 AM [+] ::
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Still, when it actually happens, no matter how much I might have hated my job I left feeling a little numb. I've quit jobs, I've been laid off, but I've never been fired, and this is a new experience for me. Even if I wasn't satisfied, I still showed up - admittedly late every now and then - and I worked hard while I was there and to have it removed still sucks.
So now what? This moves up my time table to go out find my "real" job a little bit. Till then, I find something to hold me over. Wish me luck.
EDIT: I found out from a co-worker that I got ratted out by a trainee who called this morning to tell the owners that he couldn't work here because he thought all the waiters were corrupt thieves, or something to that effect. The odd thing is, my name somehow came up, when literally the only words I said to him all night was, "hi, I"m Dan-E." I'm not the only one who did what I did, but for that (ridiculous) reason, they decided to use me as an example.
So they'd rather value the word of some piece of shit who didn't even have the balls to voice his complaint in person over an employee who's been there over two years. I think I'm better off away from there.
:: Miscellaneous Ramblings by Dan-E at 6:40 PM [+] ::
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