Free Corned Beef Hash

We all know that restaurant managers have one thing on their minds and it’s the bottom line. Oh, wait and internet porn while sitting in the office (shout out to Enrique). So two things. But the main thing is making money for the restaurant which is why they are always on our asses about selling more desserts and top shelf liquor instead of that cheap ass McCormick shit that I drink. As previously noted, I don’t really care about that shit because I know that plenty of people are going to leave me a five dollar tip whether their bill is $25 or $30. But managers are always trying to figure out a way to make us sell more shit and one way that they do it is tempt us with a prize. Anyone else familiar with this drill?

Manager: Alright, listen up. Our special of the day is corned beef hash and I want to get rid of all of it. Whichever server can sell the most corned beef hash will get a free corned beef hash. Ya hear that? A free corn beef hash. Now let’s get out there and let's sell some corned beef hash!

Seriously? I need so much more incentive than free corned beef hash. Or a free dessert. Sometimes the prize is some promotional t-shirt that a liquor company gave the restaurant. Wow, I was wondering where in the hell I could ever find a Captain Morgan Rum t-shirt, thanks. Now if they offered a free cocktail, then maybe but usually I have one of those anyway in a paper cup next to the cappuccino machine. If the prize was a bottle of tequila, then I might be inclined to try a little harder. But if they really want to encourage me to sell extra food there are a few things they could do that would light a fire under my ass. How about whoever sells the most corned beef hash gets a paid day off? Or no sidework? Or a free pass the next time you call some bitch a bitch? How about a crisp twenty dollar bill? I will do pretty much anything for twenty bucks. I’m not proud of some of the things I have done for twenty dollars, but by God, money is money. Or maybe if I sell the most corned beef hash they can promise me that I will never have to sell corned beef hash again. That is some nasty shit. I think I don’t like it because it has such a dumb name. Who wants beef that’s been corned and then chopped into hash? What the fuck is “corned” anyway? (And in the background Carol Channing says from a bathroom stall, “When did I have corned… beef hash?”)

So what have we learned about incentives for selling contests? We have learned that the best way to encourage servers to do what managers want is for managers to put out some cold hard cash in our hands. Keep your food and drinks and corned beef cash. Take that free Patron Tequila wine opener and shove it where the agave plant don’t shine. If you want me to sell the most of something, I want money.

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Hello, Deli

As I reminisce about the good ol' days when I served in a restaurant rather than a bar/nightclub/theater/etc I begin to miss a certain thing that doesn't happen when you work in a place without a kitchen. I miss shift meal. You know shift meal? It's that cozy time before work starts when you share a plate of food with your co-workers and strategize on on how to make the day ahead even better than the day before. Or maybe you would just sit there and read the paper, whatever. When I worked the lunch shift at my previous restaurant (the evil and hated VYNL on the Upper East Side), each day the kitchen would prepare us a lovely meal to start our day off right. I mean it is the most important meal of the day. My favorite was when they would make something that was actually for breakfast, like a big plate of scrambled eggs and bacon or maybe they'd make you an omelette. Sometimes they would miss the mark though. Keep in mind, even though the servers wanted breakfast it was 11:00 and the cooks had been there since 8:00 and they ate their breakfast four hours ago or something. So sometimes, I would drag my sleepy ass out of bed, throw it on the 6 train and pray to God they would make me a biscuit when I got there. But no, every once in a while, they would throw me a curve ball and make us steak fajitas or beef stew. Once they made us a plate of fucking shrimp quesadillas. Love me some quesadilla, but not with shrimp and peppers when all I want is a goddamn scrambled egg. I'd bitch and moan about it and then shut the fuck up and eat my fried chicken sandwich for my breakfast.

When I worked at The Marriott, we had a cafeteria. I worked the late breakfast shift and would get there and have to look at oxtail fucking soup or curry goat as I daydreamed of a waffle. By 11:00AM it was already lunchtime for everyone else. And seriously. Ox and goat was a staple in that cafeteria. It was like a fucking barnyard breakfast freakin' buffet up in there.

Houlihan's on 49th and Seventh never made us a shift meal. You had to order off a certain menu and then you'd get it half price or some shit. And it was crap like chicken fingers and french onion soup. My favorite shift meal was from the deli downstairs. An egg and cheese on a roll for a $1.25. And then some stolen orange juice from the bar. Once at the deli, I ran into Carol Channing. I said hello to her and she said hello back and that day my egg and cheese on a roll tasted extra special. And now that I think about it, my shift meals have gone steadily downhill since then. Thanks, Carol Channing. You really made shift meals suck.