I was the opening manager for a restaurant in downtown Washington D.C. many years ago. The restaurant was one of a chain that was very popular in the Washington area at the time. We opened at 7:00 AM for breakfast, which meant I had to get there at about 5:15 AM to open the store so we could prepare for the breakfast rush.
When I arrived at the store on this chilly March morning, several employees were already waiting to be let in. As was my custom I would lock the door behind me, being sure to lock both the middle and bottom locks on the big plate glass door. I would sit in the dining room for about 15 minutes while waiting for the remaining employees to arrive.
On this day as the last two workers came up to the door, I unlocked the middle lock and stooped down and unlocked the bottom lock. All of a sudden the door was pushed open, the two employees were literally thrown into the room and I was knocked off balance while still stooped over the bottom lock. Three young men with stocking caps on, brandishing a gun, ordered me to lock the door. I did so, and they directed us to the back of the store, down to the basement where the office was located. They rounded up the other employees already in the store and herded us all into the small office. The tallest intruder yelled at me to “open the damn safe.” The safe was located next to the wooden desk, and beside a metal file cabinet. On the side of the desk was a “panic” switch which would summon police. The thieves knew it was there, and told me not to push it, just “open the damn safe.” Well, with a gun pointed at my head, I could not remember the combination, and my hands were shaking so bad I could barely turn the dial.
After what seemed like an hour, but was only a few minutes, the door bell to the store began to ring as other employees showed up for work. The thieves were getting nervous, and the gun was looking bigger and bigger to me. I finally got the safe open, but there was less than $150 opening cash in it; the previous day’s money had been deposited the night before. What the crooks didn’t know was there was a silent panic button inside the safe, which I somehow remembered to flick. They quickly scooped up the money, and put us all in the walk-in ice box and locked it from the outside. They made their escape through the basement rear door. Within minutes, which again seemed a lot longer, Washington’s Finest opened the walk-in and let us all out. The thieves had been caught at the end of the alley behind the restaurant.
We were all shaky and cold, but not as cold as the half dozen or more employees at the front door who were waiting in the cold and had no idea what was going on.
- Jack
Tagged as:
owner/manager,
police,
violence
Our restaurant presents live musical performances on Fridays and Saturdays; usually upbeat jazz and R&B. These shows are very, very popular, and we encourage people (via our website and press releases) to call the restaurant to reserve a seat.
I was in the middle of seating a whole lot of people on a Friday night; the place was packed; four of my most favorite customers (who’d called the week before to reserve) were with me, heading toward one of the prime tables in the restaurant. The five of us were nearly knocked over by a rather rotund woman and her husband who went running past us – and sat down at the table we were headed to (it was marked with a card saying “reserved”).
I asked my customers to bear with us a moment and went to tell the couple that they couldn’t sit there; it’d been reserved and that I’d be happy to get them another table if they’d wait for a moment. The lady looked at me and said “we’re not moving.” I replied that she was a party of two occupying a reserved table set for four. Again, all she said was “we’re not moving.” Not wanting to cause a scene; I seated my table of four at a booth (one they really didn’t want – but they were understanding) and then went to my service staff and told the server in that section that I did not want her to waste her time on the offending couple; that I just wanted them to wait and maybe they’d just go away.
Over the next 45 minutes, the woman continued to sit there, oblivious to the fact that she was being intentionally ignored, but for the fact that every time I passed the table, she’d utter some sort of obscenity, very loudly, in my direction. “F*ck! Sh*t. Dick-head. Assh*le.” It started to wear on the diners seated in the vicinity. I finally went to the table and said “I guess you didn’t get the hint; you and your date need to leave right now.” To which she again said, “we’re not moving.”
I called the police. We have a liquor license and are therefore entitled to eject any customer, for any reason, without repercussion. It seemed to me if an individual was being this belligerent she must’ve had something to drink, or worse, a pill or something like that. But I must tell you I can’t stand having to call the police – I’d much rather reserve that for when we really need them. Most of the time, I can get even the most unreasonable customer to a middle ground where we can at least respect each other. In this case it just wasn’t going to happen.
When the officers arrived, they heard what was going on and rolled their eyes – in disbelief that all I called them for was a customer who wouldn’t change her table. I was telling them the details of this woman’s behavior as we approached the table (two of the four tables surrounding this woman applauded me and the cops when we arrived – they stood and applauded) and when she turned around and saw us all, she lunged up at me with her water glass, aiming it right at my face. The cops tackled her but not before I got a glass full of water all over my suit and a nasty knot in my head where the glass hit me (thank God it didn’t break).
Meanwhile, astonishingly, her date (or her husband) stood by, wordlessly. When prompted by the police for a comment, he just said “oh, she’s pretty demanding. She’s like this all the time.” We were rendered momentarily speechless. He seemed genuinely surprised when they put the handcuffs on the lady. She, meanwhile, was vomiting obscenities and told the police and me that our mothers were “whores” and worse.
Now, I could’ve filed assault charges that’d have resulted in up to five years’ jail time in our state. I declined. I did, however, tell the Court that I wanted this woman to get some sort of counseling – the judge concurred.
Now, when that party of four – the ones who the table was intended for – comes in for one of their frequent visits to our restaurant, we have a little schtick. They sit down immediately at their favorite table, and when I come to get their drink orders, they all chime in at once “we’re not moving!”
- Xiao Gou
Tagged as:
owner/manager,
police,
portly,
violence
Many years ago I worked as an assistant manager for a well known chain of restaurants located in the Washington, DC area. The chain was owned by Mormons who were very generous in helping handicapped and mentally challenged individuals by providing them jobs in the kitchen, and as bus boys and girls.
The particular Shoppe I worked at hired a lovely girl named Eunice. Eunice worked in the kitchen as a general helper and as a bus girl when needed. From time to time Eunice would show signs of stress, and behave oddly. These moments would generally pass, and her demeanor would return.
One spring afternoon during the Cherry Blossom Festival we were slammed, with a line out the door, and all tables were filled. I pulled Eunice from the kitchen and put her on bussing detail. She seemed to be doing well. I was working the “wheel” in the kitchen when all of a sudden I heard a loud commotion in the dining room. I hurried into the dining room, and couldn’t believe my eyes. There was Eunice, practically on top of a young father whose wife and daughter were sitting at the table with a look of horror on their faces. While clearing the table Eunice had reach down and grabbed the young man by his privates. She hung on as his chair tipped over and they both fell to the floor. The wife screamed, the other diners stood up to see what was happening. The Dining Room Manager and I rushed to pull Eunice off of the customer. Once removed she quickly regained composure and went into the kitchen. The police were called, but no charges were filed. I completed a long incident report for the home office. A few days later the DRM and I were interviewed by a company lawyer.
Eunice never returned to the store. We were never informed of the outcome. But it was a day to remember.
- Jack
Tagged as:
busser,
owner/manager,
police,
sexuality
I was robbed during BROAD DAYLIGHT at CB while parked along the sidewalk on the side of the building. When I asked the clerk to call police, their first response was “the same thing happened last week.”
They don’t have security cameras in place to help catch criminals. They sent a letter saying they “aren’t responsible for criminal acts on their property.” I’m very disappointed that their PR for “family oriented” restaurant is only in speech.
If you plan to eat there, be sure you are seated where you can observe your car, and don’t let kids or loved ones go out alone to get anything out of the vehicle in case a criminal is still there and hurts your loved one. The thief has our GPS (containing our address), house keys, and pics from our cameras.
Tagged as:
crime,
police
