Thursday we sent home all non-management staff and I made good money, but the whole thing had a weird air to it. Friday nobody got sent home early and we had a great weekday, fine weekend sort of service that left everybody feeling really comforted and optimistic about the weeks to come. There was still a lingering doom and gloom in the air, most of it looking further into the future at lost revenue from the cancellations of March Madness (College World Series has never been our crowd, but NBA dads are big on wine so we've had some cool tables like David Robinson in the past) and Berkshire Hathaway events, as well as the potential of the Olympic Swim Trials closing, but we all felt pretty good about our futures after Friday. Even the after-work bar was mostly full, though we noted the other two fine dining restaurant staffs hadn't come by as they usually do.

Last night (Saturday) was a mess. We brought in a ringer to cover a shift for someone who'd taken a vacation to Mexico and all he wound up doing was breaking down cardboard boxes for two hours. The other server on the floor didn't take a table until about 8PM. The first couple, a pair of regulars hoping to catch a sighting of our chef's newborn son, didn't show up until just before then at 7:15. At the end of the night I did the budget for the bar program and realized we hadn't even sold $100 in beer over the course of the week; my spreadsheet basically spat out a fat "YOU BROKE" sum at me for the first time in the eight months I've managed the bar's finances (I have a very healthy surplus, something I imagine I won't even think about touching for a while).

The one ace in the hole I have to keep reminding myself is that our building happens to be owned by one of the few truly benevolent landlords to ever roam this Earth, as she is super selective about the businesses that occupy her buildings and opts to take a percentage of the monthly net profit rather than place a flat value on the occupation of the property. Our chef has worked with her for over 20 years and known her for more than 30. The business, I'm more than positive, will survive this thing (as long as she, in her late 80s and perpetually on her third martini, survives and controls the property). But I'm not sure the employees will, and in my case specifically, I'm not sure what to do. I've been a line cook or bartender since I was 14 and my only other skill is writing, a job that's so notoriously hard to make a living at I never seriously gave it a shot.

Then again, maybe Saturday was the outlier day. Maybe Friday was the new normal, half as busy but sustainable, packed with regulars who know the fuckin' vibes and just appreciate having a place they can go and escape from their social media and national news firestorms for a couple hours. Who knows! It's 4AM and because the aforementioned Mexico-vacationing coworker is out I'm managing the brunch shift that starts at 9AM. I'm definitely not getting any sleep before then; the coffee's about to get hot.

The city canceled all the fish fry events and people love our brunch even in the dead of winter - fingers crossed! Except also not? Maybe we should be empty, especially since it snowed yesterday and then rained all night? Who the fuck knows?! All I know is I didn't fall asleep until 6AM, and now it's 8:40AM and I'm waiting for an Uber to take me to a restaurant where some woman never thought to call in and cancel the nine person birthday brunch for her 70-something year old mother, and I can't tell whether I'd be happier if they stayed home or showed up. Life is wonderful!

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"This is the streets, and I am the trap." � Jay Bilas
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