Whispers of the Swarm

Here I am again, working on yet another day off. Some would say I work way too much or I’m working myself to the bone or I’m a workaholic. Now I’m probably all of those things, but as for me? I always saw it as, another day another dollar in my comfort zone. There was something soothing, almost predictable, about running a restaurant. Maybe because it was too familiar as I had always worked in them.

I managed a restaurant, a big restaurant, a 24-hour restaurant which kept me very busy. I had about 64 combined kitchen and wait staff, 4 assistant managers and 8 crew chiefs. Now you would think this would be enough people to take care of business, right? Wrong. If anyone of those people didn’t make it to work, I was sure to have extra hours one way or another, and trust me, plenty of times that’s exactly what I did. I had to make sure that place ran top notch at all times even if I had to work it myself. I made sure anyone who had an issue or a problem ran it through me first before taking steps, whether I was on shift or not.

Since I was the general manager, I had to adhere to certain standards, certain ways and certain behaviors. I found it best to maintain my standard by wearing a suit. I always wore black slacks, a black blazer and a collared shirt. My hair neatly tucked in a pony tail which was my go-to for a professional image. It made me feel I was in charge, in control and held an important position. I had to appear perfect. I also made sure others, anyone who was in the customers view, held to that standard as well. I managed my crew like I did me. Be in order, act appropriately and look professional.

Although I ran a tight ship, sometimes I wanted the crew to have a bit fun. I had them upsell or suggest more items to the guest. Although this didn’t sound like fun, I had contests to keep the crew motivated. On busy days, such as Saturday mornings for breakfast, this not only increased sales but it also kept up the crew's moral and instilled teamwork.

Most of the time the games ran smooth, sometimes though, if there was a staff member who wasn’t performing or acting appropriate, I would have to pull them into the office and take care of whatever situation occurred. Being an employee of mine they were held accountable even with the contests. There was to be no goofing off in my restaurant.

There came time when I wanted to let my hair down, so to speak. I usually don’t have much of an outside life, but my best friend Joyce’s birthday was on Friday night and she really wanted me to go out and have some fun. I decided to go since I really needed to pull myself away from working all the time. I mean, I can’t have all work and no play, right? Trying to convince myself of that was the hardest part.

I decided to get all made up and wear something I wouldn’t normally wear. So, I put on a frilly little dress, wore my hair down and put on some high heels. We drove to this cute little bar on the strip neither one of us had been to before. It was quaint with low lights, very up close and personal, yet it was also big enough to have live music and enough people to make it fun.

After a few drinks I loosened up a bit and tried to let go of my “proper” managerial ways. A couple of guys came over and chatted with us. They weren’t too bad on the eyes and kept flattering us with compliments. I think the more we talked and laughed with them, the more drinks they bought. I’m not sure if they were trying to get us both drunk, or what the motive was, but I figured I’m here to have fun and I shouldn't complain about free drinks.

All of a sudden, one of the guy's grabbed my hand and took me to the dance floor. I enjoyed myself so much dancing, that it got me hooked to wanting to do it more. I wanted to dance all night long. Soon, Joyce and I danced with anyone and everyone who wanted dance. It didn’t matter if we didn’t have anyone to dance with, because then we would just end up dancing with each other. Heck, I don’t even know what happened to those two guys now that I think about it. Either way, that was the best night I’d had in a long time. We went back to the table for a quick drink before going back on the dance floor, and that’s when it began.

My phone started to ring, it was a call from the restaurant. I was so pissed I told Joyce I wasn’t going to answer it because I just knew I would be called in. Feeling guilty I answered the phone anyway, and as predicted, it was the head crew chief for the night. Apparently, the assistant manager, Kent, had wrecked his car and wouldn’t be able work until later that night. There was no one to cover for the evening until he arrived. Frustrated I told her I would be there. The only night I was out drinking and having fun and I needed to go in to cover until the assistant came in.

Convincing myself it was only for a short time even though I had a bit too much to drink, and wasn’t dressed properly for the job, I could probably manage. After all I had to make sure everything was running smoothly. Joyce decided to come with me so we made a B-line to the restroom before we left. As we went out the door, I was grumbling that I had better not get any food on my dress and I better be able to work in these heels.

When we pulled up to the restaurant it looked really busy inside. As I walked behind Joyce to the door, I kept scanning the parking lot hoping I would see Trent pull up, or someone drop him off so I didn’t have to go in and work. Unfortunately, that didn’t happen.

When we stepped inside, it immediately looked like trouble. I could see the food was backed up at the window, there was a line at the door, customers looked disgruntled and the servers were running around with their heads cut off. I told Joyce I’ve got to run and turned and started heading to the food line first so I could help get some food to the tables.

All of a sudden Joyce started laughing and trying reach out to me, like trying to stop me or something. I couldn’t quite figure it out other than the fact that she was way tipsier than I thought. All I could do was tell her to quit laughing so loud and I needed to go. She kept it up saying “no, wait” while laughing her head off. I rolled my eyes, turned to head to the kitchen again, and tried to walk straight in those heels since the shoes seemed wobblier when you’re not quite sober.

Walking faster, or as fast as I could in heels, toward the food galley some of the customers were chuckling and seemed to be having a good time. Yet, others were whispering with each other and grinning. Some of the crew members were smiling and pointing at me, or trying to get my attention or something. Confused, I waved believing it must be the way I'm dressed. I should have gone home to change first. Trying to ignore all of that I finally made it to the galley.

Just then a server had rushed up behind me, and looked at me like she didn’t know what to say.

All I could muster was;

“I know, I know, I’m not really dressed to help.”

” No, it’s not that”, she said and couldn’t help but giggle a little.

I looked at her really confused

“Am I missing something? What’s going on?”

She leaned in toward me and whispered

“Your skirt is stuck in your pantyhose and your butt’s showing”

Too shocked to speak, I just froze. I hurried and took the skirt out of my pantyhose and looked around. Oh my gosh! did anyone see that? Is that what all the chuckles were for? You should have seen my face, I must have turned 50 shades of red. I wanted to cry I was so embarrassed. I looked over my shoulder at Joyce, a little mad she didn’t stop me from making a fool of myself. She’s still laughing over there yelling “I tried to tell you!”

Laughter and snickering buzzed through the galley. At that point I wasn't certain if I should laugh or be horrified. I wanted to sink in a hole right about then. When some of the laughter died down, some of the crew tried to tell me, oh don’t worry it wasn’t that bad.

Now, that’s just something you know, that it was “that” bad. I don’t think I will ever live that moment down.

Although, I won’t be going into work wearing a dress and high heels again in the near future, I realized I actually survived the night in spite of everything. In a weird sort of warped way, that embarrassing incident not only showed the restaurant crew that I am human, but I actually showed myself that as well. Not just a manager in a suit, but someone that has emotions just like them. It was probably the first time I could actually laugh at myself when I think back on it, and accept the fact, that I am not perfect.

From that day forward I decided to separate myself from the business and allow others to work the way that suits them best so their own personality would shine through. I decided that work was work, and I needed to find my own life. Heck, I even make sure I took time off and let the other managers deal with their own issues for their shift. I also decided to break out of that stuffy suit sometimes. Mostly on Saturdays when we would do the contests. I say we, because when I’m dressed a little more casual and allow the team to breath, the crew sees me as part of the “team” too.