“You want reservations? Here’s your gal!” said my GM to the ladies waiting at the podium.
Ha! If you only knew, I thought.
“Oh the reservations gal. Great!” they smiled. And I booked them in for Christmas Eve.
“Are you the gal who can get me the best table in the house?” asked another guest. “I need your help.” And he slipped me $10, which I refused, which he tried to give me again, which I refused again, to book him an open slot that didn’t remotely garner bribing!
“If you want to know what the hardest job in this place is,” said one of the managers in line-up, “Talk to that gal,” he said referring to me. “Work in her shoes one day, and you will know what I mean.” I was looking for the large-party sheet as he said this, and I smiled and quickly ducked out of line-up. I am too new here to take a bow, you know?
I am a bit of a hybrid in my new job. I function as an old-school maitre d’, which I love. I function as a trainer of host staff, which I love. I function as a reservationist, which I actually like, too. I function as a quasi-manager, which is really all good.
I am the go-to, senior something, after just a week. And suddenly, everyone, from staff to management to guests called me “gal” today.
It sounded quite nice. They may or may not know me as The Gal, but as their gal, I’m doing okay.
Too funny, all these Gal nuances.
The bigger news is that I am waiting to hear about a management job with the same restaurant. I hear tomorrow. I have a good shot, but who knows? Lots of others are in the running.
I almost don’t care if I get it or not, although if I do, I will be thrilled. So, I do care, a little. Okay, a lot.
If I don’t get the management job, I am okay with being a senior staffer. Because I am working sane hours again, having fun, and now remember what excellent, professional management can do to make any job good.
This is a good one, for this gal.