I used to think that one of my greatest truisms is that I have learned more from people doing the wrong thing than from being taught the proper way to do something. An endless parade of managers and owners that simply needed to be observed and than the complete opposite action was to be applied to ensure you didn't fall into their dangerous trap of mediocrity. Of course I now realise that this isn't true at all as I have had plenty of positive experience to draw from. Maybe it's inevitable that the negative would stand out when it is so blatantly bad...I have lost count how many people fall into this category for me, but one is above all others.
Of course I have had some wonderful and influential teachers and mentors over the years. My parents top the list as they should and to name just a few...Mr Chiovettie, Mr Reid, Mr Raso, Mr Shoreman, Chef Rico, Chef Michael, Chef Alan, Mr Myagi...just saying. The list is endless, and life being such as it is...I learned good and bad from all of these people, and that's not to say I haven't done my fair share of bone head things in this world, how could I not after all, but this post is about one in particular which, at one of my most formative times, influenced me without my realisation at the time...I owe a lot to him, so without further ado....I give you Peter
Peter was the son of the person that bought the Golden Griddle that I had been working at, Peter was given the reigns on the second restaurant of his fathers empire...and to leave no suspense, fast forward, he ended up declaring bankruptcy on that location...so you know how it ends.
Where to begin with Peter? A coke addled wannabe buddy buddy kind of guy that would routinely ask hostess to not ring in bills that were paid for by cash...get the idea? Skimming from your dad, nice guy right? I gather he grew up working in the restaurant that his dad ran so one would think he would have learned the business from the ground up. And maybe he did, but how he ended up is an entirely different kettle of fish. He lacked subtlety and had not garnered any respect from anyone that worked for him. We could all see right through him and we didn't like what we saw....be it nepotism, cocaine use during a shift, stealing from the restaurant and whatever else we chose to care about...he was generally not liked and certainly not respected.
It probably started when he got his girlfriend to work at the restaurant as a waitress. She wasn't any good at her job and he gave her obvious preferential treatment. The best shifts, the best sections and when she couldn't handle the business, someone else got the blame. Typical of that kind of behaviour for a guy like Peter. So now he has the other servers pissed at him for his favouritism and the cooks are pissed at him because he would let her continue on with her spoiled rotten attitude. And from there...worse, much, much worse.
I mentioned that Peter had no respect from anyone that answered to him, here are two reasons why, and they both boil down to a lack of a back bone in my humble opinion. Firstly, he capitulated every single time when someone threatened to quit if they didn't get a raise. Every cook at that place was getting paid over $10 an hour, back when minimum wage was in the $5 range...to put that in context, minimum wage today is in the $11.00 range here in Nova Scotia. Instead of calling people on their threats, lest he need to work a shift on the line or do some dishes, he would over pay us all. Don't negotiate with terrorists...or amped up cooks. I will cajole, guilt, grovel a bit but that's it...threaten me, you might as well leave because I'll do it if I have to. You can't respect a man that can't stand up for himself in that way.
Similarly, you can't respect a man that doesn't stand up for others...especially if they happen to be your fiance. Some context to this little story since it really isn't going to cast me in the most positive light. Remember, I was young and stupid back then....now I'm just older. The restaurant chain was rolling out new menus one summer, the hopes being that it would revitalise the brand in response to sagging sales; a cardinal sin in my view...if you're a pancake house stick to pancakes, why are you putting escargot on the menu. One of these new dishes was a delightful frozen garlic shrimp dish that you microwaved for three minutes and squeezed out into a dish for service....sprig of parsley for garnish. ICK! Someone had broken open a box of these rubber nuggets to try at some point. For the record it wasn't me...I didn't like shrimp back then. And if I did you can be damn sure I would not be eating them in that way. Peter took exception to this sampling...he deemed it stealing from him, as opposed to the regular sticky fingers he used on his dads money. I hear coke is expensive. Now, granted, this could have been all avoided if the guilty culprit had simply said, yep...it was me. Sorry Peter. Such was the environment in the kitchen at that point that no apology was in the offing...and Peter lost his shit. Maybe the coke was bad, maybe his girlfriend wasn't pleasing him in that special way...whatever, he over reacted badly. And that's saying something from some over paid snot nosed teenage boys. "Until someone confesses to this crime and pays me for it, there will be no more beers for the kitchen" he declared. What? I work on Saturday and Sunday in this non air conditioned kitchen with sweaty nether regions, feeding 500 people a day and you're not going to reward me with a beer to quench my thirst? Forget for the moment that I was under age. Whatever dude.
Two days later the line in the sand was ready for breach. Our usual way of begging for beer was to wait for Peter to stroll by and talk about how thirsty we were or how hot we were, how a beer would go down just right. He wasn't buying this time...I told you, no beer. Fine, be that way. Twenty minutes later I was in the middle of a verbal brawl and it was pretty much my fault. You see, five minutes earlier I had asked a waitress to bring me a beer that I was going to pay for, $2.95 wasn't too much for a nice cold beer right? So...I was making this guy a few bucks with my purchase. Important to remember once the shouting starts. As I sipped my beer while working on my clean up as my shift neared it's end, Peter walked in and by the line. Then, almost comically, he backed up and glared at me while I took a swig. What? I told you no beers for the kitchen. Now, in hindsight, perhaps if I hadn't answered so flippantly my next eight minutes would have been a little more cordial, but of course I did answer flippantly. I paid for this beer...made you a few bucks, you're welcome. I've never seen a red line rise on someones face like that so quickly, and that's taking into consideration my dad...it was impressive. The ensuing tirade was epic, if only because his face was redder than a tomato in pure anger...one of us was joining Muhammed on the way to the mountain...wanna take bets? I gave back to Peter as much as he doled out, remember, he had no respect from me or anyone else...everyone else was just watching the show. I used a little logic and a lot of disdain to drive my point home, I paid for the beer and I don't like fucking shrimp. At some point his, errrrr....lovely fiance joined the fracas and so now one became two and little ole me was outnumbered. But not outgunned, I can handle myself fine with these two coke addled "bosses". I let her have it as well...left no stone unturned and may have used a version of the phrase, "if I want your opinion, I'll give it to you" Now, if someone talked to my beloved that way, they would be quite simply out on their ass. Peter did nothing as Lucia was now fighting his war...and losing badly. No respect. Truth is I should have been fired right there and then...I don't argue that point and while I'm not proud of my behaviour that day I do remember feeling justified in my response (ahhh, the folly of youth). It ended when I got my money back for a half drunk beer. Peace in our time.
Let's call it detente. The beer was flowing the next week, I was a minor legend for battling on two fronts with the boss and still having my job at the end of it all. I chalked it up to a "just another teenage boy" response at the time, but I do think that the episode was the beginning of my change in attitude. Slowly but surely I began the transformation into a slightly more mature worker. I was always responsible and my work ethic was always good...I was just a snot when it came to authority, well...that changed a bit over time. No longer being the good worker with the volatile personality, I morphed into the good worker with a better attitude, one of understanding and an appreciation for the sacrifices made by all to be in business. If I have an appreciation for seeing the bigger picture now, the seeds of it were born right there and then. Without a doubt those two dysfunctional bosses weren't capable of running a shoe shine stand much less a restaurant, and they chose to stand up forcefully in an attempt to erase a years worth of erosion in a spectacularly stupid way, but in hindsight, they had no choice...it was their method that was lacking, not their reasoning. Running into my sphere of idiocy simply made for good TV.
Through that experience and so many others I have learned what not to do as a boss...earning respect is one thing, treating all with respect and dignity has been the key to my success I think. I don't need to be your friend but I do need to work with you. I was young once and remember the way it was, we're not so different. I hope you'll learn from me in either way really, my good and bad habits. So why don't we make it a pleasant experience and I'll thank my lucky stars that I haven't ran into a mini me yet.
Ciao
D
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