She thought she had finally met someone who could help her run the place. He reminded her of her dad; small, thin, man with carefully combed hair, some stylish alligator loafers, grey slacks, a white long sleeved shirt rolled to the elbows, a gold watch, and a brown leather jacket. He smelled like a combination of a nice after shave and a shot of something hard.
He had experience managing a restaurant and bar. He had actually owned two or three restaurants over the years, was an experienced chef, and bartender. Right off the bat he offered to invest in the business and help her run things. It seemed like they had the same vision. But still she was wary. Her experience so far did not lead her to trust him immediately.
She gave him a job bar tending and expediting as well as training the bussers. She tried him out in the kitchen one morning for brunch. It was a fiasco. Obviously he had a lot of hotel experience where the chef prepares a tray of poached eggs to serve at a buffet. She expected meals to be prepared as they were ordered, not pre-made to sit under a heat lamp until someone ordered one. “It’s all about the mise en place,” he tried to explain.
He was doing a good job training the young staff. They should be thankful if they received tutelage from him. He knew how a good server should act and dress. But there were other problems. He was never completely sober for one thing. Now she understood that addicts could be productive workers if they kept their shit together, and Lawrence was keeping it together mostly.
One night he came in particularly brazen and had obviously had more than a couple of drinks before he showed up for work. The first thing he said was, “I should fire you and make myself the supreme being.” Just then a table of two parents and four kids came in for an early dinner. He sat them at the far end of the restaurant and took their drink orders.
They had a very cute four year old blond haired boy. Lawrence was immediately smitten with this cherubic little man and took him by the hand and led him behind the bar. He lifted him up until he was sitting on the bar watching Lawrence make the drinks. “Put a cherry in this one,” he said to the boy showing him the container of cherries. “Go ahead you can eat one, or two, or… how old are you? OK four.” Then he took his hand again and led him back to the table where he served the drinks to the family.
Throughout the course of the meal, Lawrence was very attentive making sure that they had everything they needed. At one point the older teenage son came to the register to ask where the restrooms were. He was also blond and about fifteen years old. “Why don’t you just drop your pants right now… and don’t tell your parents, ” Lawrence said to the rather embarrassed lad.
Kristie was dumbfounded. She had never seen anyone act so outlandishly. She pulled him aside for a private conference. “You can’t do that,” she said to him. “Taking a small child like that behind the bar… and then what you just said to the older boy? What are you thinking?”
He took off his apron and started down the stairs, looking back up at Kristie, he said, “I suppose I’m fired?”
“I suppose you are,” Kristie said sadly shaking her head.
(First published November 10, 2011)
