One might imagine that a quiet Monday is a walk in the park for this maitre ‘d. And that Friday–usually the busiest, craziest day of the week for lunch–is the day to dread.
Friday, it turns out, is what keeps me coming back on Monday. Friday means no down time until cutting time and all the time to observe, interact, and be continually astounded by who comprises the Friday free-for-all in my foyer.
Bad Friday, good Friday, easy Friday, tough Friday–it makes no difference.
I live for Friday’s frenetic energy.