If you’ve interviewed at a restaurant, bar or café before, you know that a manager’s favorite line is “we’re like a family here.” They’ll go on to explain that everyone gets along, everyone loves working together, everyone helps and teaches and supports and is obsessed with and would die for one another. It’s funny how unique this selling point is to the food and beverage industry… you don’t hear managers of stable day jobs with salaries and benefits call their employees a family. Maybe that’s because they don’t have to, because they’re offering stable jobs with salaries and benefits. Regardless, after your second or third restaurant, you do start to wonder why F&B hiring people are so quick to “family” their staff.
Now, on your first or second go round of this, you’ll hear that a place operates like a family and think of the traditional, lovely elements that make one such an invaluable thing to be a part of: loyalty, care, support and comradery. Some restaurants do have those traits that reflect the loving, familial environment every manager tries to advertise.
Some do.
Some.
Most places, on the other hand, will have familial qualities, but not just the ones a manager tries to make you think of. You aren’t being lied to, but you’re certainly being misguided. When you begin working at a new place, you need to think of yourself as an infant, newly born. The energy of this new microcosm welcomes you, yet you are a stranger. You reach out to your surroundings for guidance: the ways of walking, talking, thinking about humanity and carrying yourself. These teachings follow a karmic rhythm unique to this specific cycle of life. Reincarniation flows through this process like a meditative breath flows through heart center. The challenges and gifts that are received along this path will define your persona and relationships until you’re inevitably fired or brought to your wits end and forced to go somewhere else that also serves whipped ricotta and truffle fries. Why is no one talking about how Buddhist this shit is?
Let’s get things clear before we go forward. You’ve been hired at a F&B establishment. You are, as we’ve said, a baby. An infant. You don’t know anything, and you will need a family to raise you. You’ll need the guidance of older siblings, the strict rule of parents, the social awareness teachings of a creepy uncle or cool
cousin, the reverent fear of a
Let’s get things clear before we go forward. You’ve been hired at a F&B establishment. You are, as we’ve said, a baby. An infant. You don’t know anything, and you will need a family to raise you. You’ll need the guidance of older siblings, the strict rule of parents, the social awareness teachings of a creepy uncle or cool
cousin, the reverent fear of a
grandparent, and maybe the competition of a twin. Well, you’re in luck, because each place you begin to work at will come with other waitstaff who have been there longer than you, managers who run the joint with iron fists and nonexistent mathematical skills, flirty and fearsome kitchen staff, and an owner less regularly seen than Santa Claus. These people are not only your teachers, but they are your influences. They’re the excuses you’ll list in therapy. They’re your worst enemies and your best friends. They’re your family, and much like your family in your life outside a restaurant, you have zero say in who you’re related to.
The staff of a restaurant all have come to live and operate in the hyper-specific environment of their place of work together, which bonds them with one another in multiple ways. When you think of your family and their influence on you, you probably think of habits, belief systems, shared experiences and genetic similarities like personality and appearance. A restaurant’s family takes all these elements and places them within the confines of a dinner rush or a morning caffeine drought. So, when a manager tells you that you’d be joining a family by working with them, they are so wrong but also so right at the same time.
The staff of a restaurant all have come to live and operate in the hyper-specific environment of their place of work together, which bonds them with one another in multiple ways. When you think of your family and their influence on you, you probably think of habits, belief systems, shared experiences and genetic similarities like personality and appearance. A restaurant’s family takes all these elements and places them within the confines of a dinner rush or a morning caffeine drought. So, when a manager tells you that you’d be joining a family by working with them, they are so wrong but also so right at the same time.
If you’ve interviewed at a restaurant, bar or café before, you know that a manager’s favorite line is “we’re like a family here.” They’ll go on to explain that everyone gets along, everyone loves working together, everyone helps and teaches and supports and is obsessed with and would die for one another. It’s funny how unique this selling point is to the food and beverage industry… you don’t hear managers of stable day jobs with salaries and benefits call their employees a family. Maybe that’s because they don’t have to, because they’re offering stable jobs with salaries and benefits. Regardless, after your second or third restaurant, you do start to wonder why F&B hiring people are so quick to “family” their staff.
Now, on your first or second go round of this, you’ll hear that a place operates like a family and think of the traditional, lovely elements that make one such an invaluable thing to be a part of: loyalty, care, support and comradery. Some restaurants do have those traits that reflect the loving, familial environment every manager tries to advertise.
Some do.
Some.
Most places, on the other hand, will have familial qualities, but not just the ones a manager tries to make you think of. You aren’t being lied to, but you’re certainly being misguided. When you begin working at a new place, you need to think of yourself as an infant, newly born. The energy of this new microcosm welcomes you, yet you are a stranger. You reach out to your surroundings for guidance: the ways of walking, talking, thinking about humanity and carrying yourself. These teachings follow a karmic rhythm unique to this specific cycle of life. Reincarniation flows through this process like a meditative breath flows through heart center. The challenges and gifts that are received along this path will define your persona and relationships until you’re inevitably fired or brought to your wits end and forced to go somewhere else that also serves whipped ricotta and truffle fries. Why is no one talking about how Buddhist this shit is?
Let’s get things clear before we go forward. You’ve been hired at a F&B establishment. You are, as we’ve said, a baby. An infant. You don’t know anything, and you will need a family to raise you. You’ll need the guidance of older siblings, the strict rule of parents, the social awareness teachings of a creepy uncle or cool
cousin, the reverent fear of a grandparent, and maybe the competition of a twin. Well, you’re in luck, because each place you begin to work at will come with other waitstaff who have been there longer than you, managers who run the joint with iron fists and nonexistent mathematical skills, flirty and fearsome kitchen staff, and an owner less regularly seen than Santa Claus. These people are not only your teachers, but they are your influences. They’re the excuses you’ll list in therapy. They’re your worst enemies and your best friends. They’re your family, and much like your family in your life outside a restaurant, you have zero say in who you’re related to.
The staff of a restaurant all have come to live and operate in the hyper-specific environment of their place of work together, which bonds them with one another in multiple ways. When you think of your family and their influence on you, you probably think of habits, belief systems, shared experiences and genetic similarities like personality and appearance. A restaurant’s family takes all these elements and places them within the confines of a dinner rush or a morning caffeine drought. So, when a manager tells you that you’d be joining a family by working with them, they are so wrong but also so right at the same time.
Now, on your first or second go round of this, you’ll hear that a place operates like a family and think of the traditional, lovely elements that make one such an invaluable thing to be a part of: loyalty, care, support and comradery. Some restaurants do have those traits that reflect the loving, familial environment every manager tries to advertise.
Some do.
Some.
Most places, on the other hand, will have familial qualities, but not just the ones a manager tries to make you think of. You aren’t being lied to, but you’re certainly being misguided. When you begin working at a new place, you need to think of yourself as an infant, newly born. The energy of this new microcosm welcomes you, yet you are a stranger. You reach out to your surroundings for guidance: the ways of walking, talking, thinking about humanity and carrying yourself. These teachings follow a karmic rhythm unique to this specific cycle of life. Reincarniation flows through this process like a meditative breath flows through heart center. The challenges and gifts that are received along this path will define your persona and relationships until you’re inevitably fired or brought to your wits end and forced to go somewhere else that also serves whipped ricotta and truffle fries. Why is no one talking about how Buddhist this shit is?
Let’s get things clear before we go forward. You’ve been hired at a F&B establishment. You are, as we’ve said, a baby. An infant. You don’t know anything, and you will need a family to raise you. You’ll need the guidance of older siblings, the strict rule of parents, the social awareness teachings of a creepy uncle or cool
cousin, the reverent fear of a grandparent, and maybe the competition of a twin. Well, you’re in luck, because each place you begin to work at will come with other waitstaff who have been there longer than you, managers who run the joint with iron fists and nonexistent mathematical skills, flirty and fearsome kitchen staff, and an owner less regularly seen than Santa Claus. These people are not only your teachers, but they are your influences. They’re the excuses you’ll list in therapy. They’re your worst enemies and your best friends. They’re your family, and much like your family in your life outside a restaurant, you have zero say in who you’re related to.
The staff of a restaurant all have come to live and operate in the hyper-specific environment of their place of work together, which bonds them with one another in multiple ways. When you think of your family and their influence on you, you probably think of habits, belief systems, shared experiences and genetic similarities like personality and appearance. A restaurant’s family takes all these elements and places them within the confines of a dinner rush or a morning caffeine drought. So, when a manager tells you that you’d be joining a family by working with them, they are so wrong but also so right at the same time.
INFLUENTIAL BEHAVIOR
Arestaurant family also shares a set of tricks and methods of making their restaurant easier to work in, just like you learn from your older family members the methods of making life easier to live. Depending on who trains you during your first few days, you’ll learn to get through mid-shift hunger by stealing bread and butter from side stations or coaxing a free serving of fries out of the kitchen. You’ll learn to sneak those special tables your phone number without your manager noticing, or take the occasional shot with a coworker when guests are acting particularly testy. The older members assigned to show you the ropes will share habits
that make getting through your time more bearable, and before you know it, you’ll also be stealing the manager’s mints, telling a table you don’t do mojitos because you know the bartender hates muddling, and hiding in that one back corner where no one can see you when you want to check your phone. Some will call it cutting corners, but you and your family will call it surviving an eight hour, physically taxing, people-pleasing job with an antiquated payment method and less benefits than jumping off a cliff. These shift hacks are like sibling secrets, shared always with a “don’t let anybody see you do this,” “you didn’t hear this from me,” or “don’t
tell anyone that I do it this way.”
tell anyone that I do it this way.”
Words are helpful and are always meant well, but much like in real life, families are much more monkey-see-monkey-do then monkey-listen-monkey-implement. If your older brother tells you not to drink too much at the family wedding, but you see him ripping shots with your cousins, guess what you’re probably going to do? If your grandma tells you cigarettes kill while chain-smoking Marlboro Reds on her front porch, guess what habit you’ll probably pick up? “The manger hates when you do this,” translates to “do it like me, and no one will notice,” just like “don’t go through my bedroom drawers or I’ll kill you” translates to “please, come in and snoop around.”
INFLUENTIAL
BEHAVIOR
BEHAVIOR
INFLUENTIAL BEHAVIOR
Arestaurant family also shares a set of tricks and methods of making their restaurant easier to work in, just like you learn from your older family members the methods of making life easier to live. Depending on who trains you during your first few days, you’ll learn to get through mid-shift hunger by stealing bread and butter from side stations or coaxing a free serving of fries out of the kitchen. You’ll learn to sneak those special tables your phone number without your manager noticing, or take the occasional shot with a coworker when guests are acting particularly testy. The older members assigned to show you the ropes will share habits that make getting through your time more bearable, and before you know it, you’ll also be stealing the manager’s mints, telling a table you don’t do mojitos because you know the bartender hates muddling, and hiding in that one back corner where no one can see you when you want to check your phone. Some will call it cutting corners, but you and your family will call it surviving an eight hour, physically taxing, people-pleasing job with an antiquated payment method and less benefits than jumping off a cliff. These shift hacks are like sibling secrets, shared always with a “don’t let anybody see you do this,” “you didn’t hear this from me,” or “don’t tell anyone that I do it this way.” Words are helpful and are always meant well, but much like in real life, families are much more monkey-see-monkey-do then monkey-listen-monkey-implement. If your older brother tells you not to drink too much at the family wedding, but you see him ripping shots with your cousins, guess what you’re probably going to do? If your grandma tells you cigarettes kill while chain-smoking Marlboro Reds on her front porch, guess what habit you’ll probably pick up? “The manger hates when you do this,” translates to “do it like me, and no one will notice,” just like “don’t go through my bedroom drawers or I’ll kill you” translates to “please, come in and snoop around.”
TRAUMA BONDING
Astrong family grows through what they go through, and restaurant families are no different. In the span of a single shift, a plethora of unpleasant circumstances can arise without any warning just like in real life, and the way your staff responds and moves forward influences you. You may put your heart and soul into a table by pouring heavy wine tastings, bringing out a free dessert, putting your best table-side jokes forward, all to get tipped under 10%. You may be screamed at by a guest who doesn’t like their martini or forgot to tell you they’re lactose intolerant after you’ve made their latte. The Health Department may show up. Your ex may show up. The gas stove may shut down. The air conditioning may break. Problems may occur where you have no control over improving them, and yet to guests, they are all your fault.
It’s a horrible feeling when you don’t feel respected, but you’ll learn to bear the brunt of all these mishaps knowing at the section of tables next to you, behind you at the bar, and in front of you at the hostess stand, your coworkers are going through the same bullshit you are. Just like when your goldfish died as a child and your older siblings helped you plan a funeral, or when you weren’t asked to prom junior year and your parents brought an out-of-town family friend to “fix it.” Tough stuff happens, and family members are with you through the hard stuff. You’ll come to know that bad nights, bad fights, and bad tips never last forever, and while you feel alone and helpless in front of a couple asking when their entrées
will arrive (the ones you have forgotten to put in the computer), you know that at the end of the evening, you’ll come together with your coworkers and realize that what you’ve just thought you went through alone you actually went through all together. You’ll be told by an older coworker that in their first week of working, they accidentally triggered someone’s celiac allergy, just like your older sister will tell you she also almost failed freshman year calc.
TRAUMA BONDING
Astrong family grows through what they go through, and restaurant families are no different. In the span of a single shift, a plethora of unpleasant circumstances can arise without any warning just like in real life, and the way your staff responds and moves forward influences you. You may put your heart and soul into a table by pouring heavy wine tastings, bringing out a free dessert, putting your best table-side jokes forward, all to get tipped under 10%. You may be screamed at by a guest who doesn’t like their martini or forgot to tell you they’re lactose intolerant after you’ve made their latte. The Health Department may show up. Your ex may show up. The gas stove may shut down. The air conditioning may break. Problems may occur where you have no control over improving them, and yet to guests, they are all your fault. It’s a horrible feeling when you don’t feel respected, but you’ll learn to bear the brunt of all these mishaps knowing at the section of tables next to you, behind you at the bar, and in front of you at the hostess stand, your coworkers are going through the same bullshit you are. Just like when your goldfish died as a child and your older siblings helped you plan a funeral, or when you weren’t asked to prom junior year and your parents brought an out-of-town family friend to “fix it.” Tough stuff happens, and family members are with you through the hard stuff. You’ll come to know that bad nights, bad fights, and bad tips never last forever, and while you feel alone and helpless in front of a couple asking when their entrées will arrive (the ones you have forgotten to put in the computer), you know that at the end of the evening, you’ll come together with your coworkers and realize that what you’ve just thought you went through alone you actually went through all together. You’ll be told by an older coworker that in their first week of working, they accidentally triggered someone’s celiac allergy, just like your older sister will tell you she also almost failed freshman year calc.
ADOPted personalities
Get a family of four or five together, and you’ll often pick up on a shared set of mannerisms, attitudes or antics they’ve all clearly developed from spending such influential years with one another. Sure, everyone is unique, but a family’s personality usually shines through when everyone is under
the same roof. The same goes with
a restaurant staff. Whether you’ll admit it or not, after a little bit of time working somewhere, you’ll start to swear like the bartender, greet tables like your favorite coworker, and talk about how no one appreciates your work like the head chef. What sets the mood of an attractive restaurant or café are
the people who scurry around
in shared uniform taking
orders, making drinks, and
speaking to each guest
that comes in. Most
of a waitstaff gets hired
as strangers to one another
– babies, at their own times – but after their adolescent years they will begin to form a persona that both suits them individually and helps define the feeling their place of work gives off. The time spent with each other, the average clientele demographic, and of course the baseline personalities every staff member brings in will shape a style of behavior that once you’ve been a part of the family for long enough, you’ll begin to see in yourself. What’s the best part of this is that
the same roof. The same goes with
a restaurant staff. Whether you’ll admit it or not, after a little bit of time working somewhere, you’ll start to swear like the bartender, greet tables like your favorite coworker, and talk about how no one appreciates your work like the head chef. What sets the mood of an attractive restaurant or café are
the people who scurry around
in shared uniform taking
orders, making drinks, and
speaking to each guest
that comes in. Most
of a waitstaff gets hired
as strangers to one another
– babies, at their own times – but after their adolescent years they will begin to form a persona that both suits them individually and helps define the feeling their place of work gives off. The time spent with each other, the average clientele demographic, and of course the baseline personalities every staff member brings in will shape a style of behavior that once you’ve been a part of the family for long enough, you’ll begin to see in yourself. What’s the best part of this is that
you’ll deny a family’s personality influence on you until one day, you’re suddenly swearing at traffic just like your father, listening to the same music your older sibling listens to, and talking about people younger than you the way your mom talks about you and your friends. Every eatery or drinkery and its personality exist somewhere specific on the spectrums of nice-to-stern, flirty-to-distant, generous-to-stingy, professional-to-relaxed, and tolerant of B.S.-to-not. The most tight-knit restaurant families are the ones whose members are all different in their own ways yet fall under the same family tree personality. Maybe you all say a different word when you stub your toe or a guest complains about their dish for the third time, but you all say a word. And it’s not a good one.
ADOPted personalities
Get a family of four or five together, and you’ll often pick up on a shared set of mannerisms, attitudes or antics they’ve all clearly developed from spending such influential years with one another. Sure, everyone is unique, but a family’s personality usually shines through when everyone is under
the same roof. The same goes with
a restaurant staff. Whether you’ll admit it or not, after a little bit of time working somewhere, you’ll start to swear like the bartender, greet tables like your favorite coworker, and talk about how no one appreciates your work like the head chef. What sets the mood of an attractive restaurant or café are the people who scurry around in shared uniform taking orders, making drinks, and speaking to each guest that comes in. Most of a waitstaff gets hired as strangers to one another – babies, at their own times – but after their adolescent years they will begin to form a persona that both suits them individually and helps define the feeling their place of work gives off. The time spent with each other, the average clientele demographic, and of course the baseline personalities every staff member brings in will shape a style of behavior that once you’ve been a part of the family for long enough, you’ll begin to see in yourself. What’s the best part of this is that you’ll deny a family’s personality influence on you until one day, you’re suddenly swearing at traffic just like your father, listening to the same music your older sibling listens to, and talking about people younger than you the way your mom talks about you and your friends. Every eatery or drinkery and its personality exist somewhere specific on the spectrums of nice-to-stern, flirty-to-distant, generous-to-stingy, professional-to-relaxed, and tolerant of B.S.-to-not. The most tight-knit restaurant families are the ones whose members are all different in their own ways yet fall under the same family tree personality. Maybe you all say a different word when you stub your toe or a guest complains about their dish for the third time, but you all say a word. And it’s not a good one.
the same roof. The same goes with
a restaurant staff. Whether you’ll admit it or not, after a little bit of time working somewhere, you’ll start to swear like the bartender, greet tables like your favorite coworker, and talk about how no one appreciates your work like the head chef. What sets the mood of an attractive restaurant or café are the people who scurry around in shared uniform taking orders, making drinks, and speaking to each guest that comes in. Most of a waitstaff gets hired as strangers to one another – babies, at their own times – but after their adolescent years they will begin to form a persona that both suits them individually and helps define the feeling their place of work gives off. The time spent with each other, the average clientele demographic, and of course the baseline personalities every staff member brings in will shape a style of behavior that once you’ve been a part of the family for long enough, you’ll begin to see in yourself. What’s the best part of this is that you’ll deny a family’s personality influence on you until one day, you’re suddenly swearing at traffic just like your father, listening to the same music your older sibling listens to, and talking about people younger than you the way your mom talks about you and your friends. Every eatery or drinkery and its personality exist somewhere specific on the spectrums of nice-to-stern, flirty-to-distant, generous-to-stingy, professional-to-relaxed, and tolerant of B.S.-to-not. The most tight-knit restaurant families are the ones whose members are all different in their own ways yet fall under the same family tree personality. Maybe you all say a different word when you stub your toe or a guest complains about their dish for the third time, but you all say a word. And it’s not a good one.
passed down beliefs
Just like any other family, a restaurant has a series of passed down convictions or a belief system that younger generations slowly become exposed to as they grow up. It’s up to each family member how they interact with these beliefs and how they implement them or not into their daily lives. Your mom may never skip a Sunday mass, which could mean anything for you between you coming with her every time to the closest you getting to God is saying it with “damnit” when you lose your keys. As an infant in
your restaurant, you will run into
your restaurant, you will run into
these beliefs in practice as you watch your siblings, parents and cousins go about their shifts. Some of your coworkers may believe that telling every guest the nightly specials is too redundant, unnecessary, unneeded and unwanted, or that marking a table with spoons for the branzino entrée is pointless because no one ever uses them, or that if someone slips you cash under the table after they’ve signed the check you can keep that for yourself. Your older sibling and
parents in real life will try to define your relationships with religion,
politics and philosophic thought,
parents in real life will try to define your relationships with religion,
politics and philosophic thought,
and you will either agree or rebel against those beliefs. Restaurants are the same way, and if you think that a staff doesn’t have their own political structure, thought process, religion, and philosophy that exists only in respect to what happens within the hours of a shift, you’re sadly mistaken. These ways of thinking have trickled down from overarching belief styles that ancestors – sometimes called management and fired staff – have established long ago, and it’s up to you and your family to figure out what makes sense to practice and what does not.
passed down beliefs
Just like any other family, a restaurant has a series of passed down convictions or a belief system that younger generations slowly become exposed to as they grow up. It’s up to each family member how they interact with these beliefs and how they implement them or not into their daily lives. Your mom may never skip a Sunday mass, which could mean anything for you between you coming with her every time to the closest you getting to God is saying it with “damnit” when you lose your keys. As an infant in
your restaurant, you will run into these beliefs in practice as you watch your siblings, parents and cousins go about their shifts. Some of your coworkers may believe that telling every guest the nightly specials is too redundant, unnecessary, unneeded and unwanted, or that marking a table with spoons for the branzino entrée is pointless because no one ever uses them, or that if someone slips you cash under the table after they’ve signed the check you can keep that for yourself. Your older sibling and
parents in real life will try to define your relationships with religion,
politics and philosophic thought, and you will either agree or rebel against those beliefs. Restaurants are the same way, and if you think that a staff doesn’t have their own political structure, thought process, religion, and philosophy that exists only in respect to what happens within the hours of a shift, you’re sadly mistaken. These ways of thinking have trickled down from overarching belief styles that ancestors – sometimes called management and fired staff – have established long ago, and it’s up to you and your family to figure out what makes sense to practice and what does not.
your restaurant, you will run into these beliefs in practice as you watch your siblings, parents and cousins go about their shifts. Some of your coworkers may believe that telling every guest the nightly specials is too redundant, unnecessary, unneeded and unwanted, or that marking a table with spoons for the branzino entrée is pointless because no one ever uses them, or that if someone slips you cash under the table after they’ve signed the check you can keep that for yourself. Your older sibling and
parents in real life will try to define your relationships with religion,
politics and philosophic thought, and you will either agree or rebel against those beliefs. Restaurants are the same way, and if you think that a staff doesn’t have their own political structure, thought process, religion, and philosophy that exists only in respect to what happens within the hours of a shift, you’re sadly mistaken. These ways of thinking have trickled down from overarching belief styles that ancestors – sometimes called management and fired staff – have established long ago, and it’s up to you and your family to figure out what makes sense to practice and what does not.
The food and beverage industry is a fluid and fickle line of work. People come in and out, leave for spells, return for long stretches, and sometimes treat the job like a loose situationship they only care about because it takes care of their rent. Serving others in hopes of them tipping you is a hard way of surviving, and to most, it’s unappealing. Accordingly, if you run into a waitstaff that has stuck with one another for arguably long amount of time, then that manager isn’t lying to you about them being a family. There’s a reason why they’ve decided to stick out the hard shifts together, and it’s probably a good reason. They also probably don’t sleep with one another. Super important. ∎
