Work. Yes, Work.

Last night, three people didn't show up for work. In a crew of seven, losing three is a big deal. We lost our dishwasher, our bus-girl/drinkmaker and our hostess. And we had so many reservations that the place was full to capacity* all night.

I have never been spread so thin. I started out just seating people. More and more people. Once every table was full, I began taking drink orders and asking people to "please be patient, we are a bit short-handed."

But you can't ask that of elites in crisp khakis who are accustomed to having what they want when they want it. Afterall, that's how it is at the country club, so why not here, in the understaffed, underpaid, overworked, small town sushi bistro? Huh?

I can't tell you how many times I thought of this scene from Bottle Rocket. 92% of our clientele seem to be of the John Maplethorpe variety.

From Crackle: Mr Henry vs Futureman

*We aren't supposed to exceed 70% capacity.