ny restaurant world

There are two things that I've noticed so far about the NY restaurant world that are massively different than the way things are done in Philly.

THE MAITRE'D

Here, maitre'ds rule. These people may look, smell and taste exactly like hosts, but don't get it confused. They are paid more, as I found out when a girl at work asked me how much I made. I lied of course. I think she told me the truth. Often, the job is a managerial position in some capacity. They are in charge of all the hosts and every person that comes in the door. And especially at Beauty & Essex, everyone is OBSESSED with the door. There, it's a parade of who's who and where they're seated is the highest level of concern for everyone involved and not involved. I mean, really thousands of people just died in Japan and you're screaming about Lady Gaga's boyfriend being seated at table 60 instead of 40?! Honestly, who gives a fuck? Maitre'ds, that's who.

Staff meal

I didn't have it at Continental, but every other restaurant I've ever worked for in Philadelphia has given us family meal at least once per shift. Here in New York, it's not different. Except for the fact that you are charged for it. No matter if you eat it or not. It's usually only a buck or two per shift, but it is taken out of your paycheck against your will and without warning. Now I take care to eat it, everyday, even if I'm not hungry... just on principle.

unfit parents

Jessie and I attempted to adopt cats on Monday, which we've been talking about since last summer when I decided to move here. We fell in love with two little grey kitties and started the application process which consisted of a questionnaire as well as an interview with this creepy cat lady who made us wait 45 minutes. She talked extensively about all the different brands of food and litter while we made kissy faces at our new pets.

She did capture my attention, however, when she explained that cats can live up to 20 years and was I ready for that commitment? "Yeah, uh-huh." But I was really thinking about what do I do with it when it dies? Can I burry it like I did my guinea pig in the woods behind my house under a little gravestone with ears carved into it? Well, I'll be 45 so by then I'll hopefully be more equipped to deal with that kind of situation. Ugh, 45?! I probably won't be living with Jessie by then. "We can't separate them," she says. "Okay, you can have them." She laughs and pinches me, my cue to not say these things in front of Jilda, the cat connoisseur. "Can I give it people food?" is my next question remembering how my friend Victoria's cats used to eat popcorn. Jessie coughs.

"Okay, that's the whole process. We'll be in contact this week to schedule a time to drop them off." "What?! We can't take them now?" I had been picturing holding my new kitten in my arms on the G train. Jessy buys a collar with dog bones on it and we dejectedly make our way home, sans pets.

A few days later we get an e-mail from Mrs. KittyKind telling us that we are, in fact, approved! Pending an addition to our home, that is. A screen door leading out to our patio. Seriously woman? It took us a week to get hot water. You think our stingy landlord is going to spring for a screen door?

So we're now thinking that maybe craigslist might be a better option for a less discriminatory cat adoption process.

week 1

I am writing this upon my gifted sofa (thanks Donna!) in my new Brooklyn home. We haven't had heat or hot water since moving in on Feb 28. It sucks, but I'm way too excited to be in New York to stay mad for long. Our landlords are Hasidic Jews, a people I have never once come into contact with in my whole life and now I am surrounded by them. David and Abe came off very abrupt, asking to see bank statements and charging us $50 for a two-second credit check that we did in a car outside of the library, but now we deal mostly with the girl in the office who can't be more than 20 years old. I can tell she feels bad about our freezing toes.

I had my first day of work yesterday. Basically I'm a glorified host. It's alright, but I am anxiously awaiting two other interviews and which will hopefully allow me to make the decision by the weekend, because the uncertainty is driving me crazy.

No exciting stories yet. I only went into Manhattan to work. As far as exploring my neighborhood, I've made it as far as the dollar store. Oh, and my friend Ian's house. He's only five blocks away and is kind enough to lend me his shower.