Staying out of the weeds

     Sometimes it all comes flooding back to me. Having spent two decades with my pulse pounding, with my head on a swivel, seeking out and resolving bottlenecks--it is only to be expected that memories wash over me from time to time. 

    I am talking of Restaurant Mode, of course. 

    A couple of days ago, I dropped by Starbucks for a cup of their bitter black elixir. Courtesy of one of my students who gifted me a card for Teacher Appreciation Week. The hour between seven and eight in the morning must be their major rush, because they were packed. Out the door. And they were hustling. Five or six baristas and cashiers, moving with purpose and grace and speed without panic. 

    The best crews are always those who are cross-trained and who back each other up. This team was impressive; the cashiers at the window dropped back to pull drinks, the person manning the sandwich station also took orders, and everyone everyone everyone stayed out of the way of the two baristas making frozen drinks. From experiences behind bars, I know how time-consuming and twiddly frozen drinks are, so it makes a lot of sense to steer clear of anyone knee-deep in frozen drinks.

    Instead of taking my coffee to go, I sat down in an upholstered wing chair. And watched. And remembered.

    20 years I worked in different restaurants. Fast food, family dining, white tablecloth. Back-of-the-house, front-of-the-house, I did it all. So when I sit and watch a well-trained crew in the zone, it brings back all those memories. Of Sunday lunch services at Cracker Barrel, Friday dinners at Applebee's, the football rush pouring into Shoney's after games in Auburn, banquets of 150 people filling the event rooms at Ruth's Chris. No matter the menu, no matter the plate price average, no matter whether coffee comes out in a demitasse cup with a tiny spoon or in a stoneware mug with the spoon already in, the basics are the same. Teamwork, speed, accuracy, and hospitality.   

    

    20 years of Restaurant Mode gave me an amazing handle on stress. Nothing compares to the stress of being screamed at by a drunk you've just cut off on New Year's Eve, or a dimwitted area supervisor ordering you to scrub out a dumpster in the middle of a Saturday dinner rush, or a breakfast shift where your opening server and opening cook both no call-no show. That's stress, and that is why I smile and shrug off minor disasters in the school day. Sometimes I feel like Paul Hogan in Crocodile Dundee--

It's all relative....

        But I do miss the surge of adrenaline that kicks off the rush. The feeling of floating through a good shift, everyone cranking together to get butts in seats and food to tables. When it is smooth, it is a magnificent display of organization and speed and purpose. That is how it felt at Starbuck's. No one was visibly in charge, which speaks even more highly of their operation--when a team is tight and cohesive, it works organically without need to be managed. Managed was always sort of a dirty word to me, anyway, I much preferred the word led. Led always meant that I was part of the action, leading the charge and reinforcing the lines and filling the gaps that needed to be filled. 

    So that is what was running through my head while I sat sipping my coffee instead of taking it to go. I am usually a stickler for early to work to set up everything before the kids get there. That is probably the result of those 20 years of pre-shift checklists and shift meetings. But I was still okay to roll through the door right on the dot--cause I am also really really accomplished at time management, at following an opening procedure with full focus. You know, because of training. 

    Thankful that my restaurant experience still helps to keep me out of the weeds.