Tournament level ping pong.

Dear Feastlings,

Every day I think we have it licked. I’m back to work, we have someone from within taking over for our soon-to-be retiring catering production manager, and a new interviewee, who showed up today when he said he would, and who’ll come work a stage, God willing, and may be able to fill the shoes of the person stepping up to fill the shoes of the imminent retiree, though he’ll need to put on some mighty thick socks. And then someone else gives notice, or falls gravely ill, or calls in with a concussion, or whatever the disastre du jour is, and we start all over.

The pandemic initially took a couple of years off my life and added a couple more to the time I wouldn’t be able to retire, but initially, it also gave back to me: it send me home at 7:00 PM, and it kept the small-scale, immediate disasters to a manageable minimum while I navigated the big one about my life’s savings, my 20 years invested in this restaurant and these people, and whether and how we’d weather the storm. Now, when I thought I’d gotten that big one dealt with, we’re back to wondering who’ll show up for work, which ingredients will arrive, which ones won’t, and which ones will increase in price by 30% overnight. That, in turn, means going back to wondering about the big stuff all over again. The back and forth of it is giving me a neck spasm. It’s like watching professional ping pong.

In the meantime, I’m back from spending most of my day in a horizontal, Covidy haze, and those in my immediate vicinity have somehow managed to wander past me, or even sit across the table from me, unscathed. Good for them, I say, the people who were within lungshot of me who’ve meandered through potential pain and misery like Mister Magoo walking through a construction site.

The good news is this: five people were scheduled to interview with us today, and five showed up. A new record. Whatever’s going on out there is finally beginning to morph. and yes, Jeff- if we have an extra cook application at the end of this, I’ll send them your way.

The other good news is that tomorrow is Bastille Day, and we’ve got specials being prepped for it as we speak.

Bastille Day

And our Saturday wine tasting is squared away as well.

A midsummer night’s dram

Now comes the part where we sort through all these interviews, see if we can cobble together a crew as the current one continues to shift shape, and land, cat-like, or like my brother, on our feet. Again.

Thanks, everyone.


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