When I first started working at Yip’s (also known as The Restaurant) I was ready to quit after my first day. I barely knew enough Cantonese to call orders, I didn’t know what the dishes looked like, I hated all the side work. I went to sleep dreading the next day spent in the dark dining room and sweltering kitchen.
Fast forward eight years…
I’ll be at The Restaurant for the first time in about three years, and a lot has changed. Obviously, I have the six years of working experience under my belt, but I’m also dealing with dread differently. Defining the fear, instead of dreading it, makes the work day must less ominous. I’ll specifically define the fear, and write actionable items to handle it:
Fear 1: My first day back, I’ll be swamped with eight tables* – all whom decide to appear in the same five-minute span.
1. Over-prepare the station. Make sure there are enough noodles, sauces, and placemats well before any rush.
2. Never walk into or out of the kitchen without a full tray.
3. No matter how many tables I get, people will eventually stop stuffing their face with Chinese food. This usually happens around 10 p.m. In other words – the day must end.
Fear 2: The cooks ask me questions about my post-graduate plans, and possessing unintelligible Cantonese, I won’t be able to answer them.
1. Social risks have zero consequences – if they think I’m a moron for being unable to speak Cantonese (and who can blame them?) who cares?
2. Anticipate the types of question they’ll ask, and learn these words and expressions before I go to the restaurant.
3. Speak Mandarin instead, which I speak about 18 percent better than Cantonese.
Fear 3: Yip’s will take away too much time from writing, and I won’t finish the book.
1. J.K. Rowling started Harry Potter by writing on napkins. This is a little too poetic and inefficient for me – so I’ll use a notebook instead. Or better yet, bring Gertrude (my name for the Dana.)
2. Use the people you meet and the experience as fodder for brainstorming.
3. Aggressively use any spare moments (which there will be) to write.
Finally, at any juncture where I consider throwing myself off the roof, I will repeat the following mantra: “Argentina, loans, health insurance… Argentina, loans, health insurance.” This should get me through the evening.
*At a restaurant like T.G.I.Friday’s, a waiter covers a three-table station. They also have food runners and bus boys to assist them. At The Restaurant, I’ve worked eight tables with no food runners, and bussing my own tables. Plus we add checks by hand with calculators. On a busy night, you need to be on your game.
Posted by Ming 
