In case you live under a pile of dirty sugar caddies, you probably have heard that New York City is bracing itself for Hurricane Irene that will cunt punch us Saturday night and all day Sunday. Everyone I know has made sure that their liquor cabinet is stocked and their Igloo cooler is full of ice. Other than batteries, tuna fish, crackers and candles, what more does one need? Thankfully, my boss had the foresight to close the restaurant today and tomorrow. I guess he knew that no one is going to fight 75 mph winds just for a tired ass plate of tilapia. Our mayor also shut down the entire New York City mass transit system meaning that no one could get to work even if they wanted to. True, I only live two blocks away from my job, but whatever. It is surprising that my boss decided to close the place since he is usually so desperate for a few extra dollars that he’ll stay open late for two losers who come in one minute before closing even if all they want is one drink apiece. Sadly, not all restaurant managers have come to their senses. A friend of mine had as her Facebook status the following: I have to go to work in this hurricane since my restaurant is in denial…
To that restaurant owner, I say this:
What the hell, dude? Maybe you didn’t hear, but New York City is having a direct hit of a freaking monster hurricane. This has not happened since before the Revolutionary War. (Not sure about that date but I do know it was a long time ago.) But you need to sell three more tacos tonight so you’re good with making your employees come to work in a fucking hurricane? I bet you plan on having delivery open too, right? Because everyone knows how prudent it is to be on a bicycle when the wind is blowing shit sideways. No one is going to come to your restaurant tonight. The news media has made sure that we buy every loaf of bread and gallon of milk within a 125 mile radius so nobody wants to go out to eat tonight. We all have plans to make dried fruit sandwiches and cocktails by the light of our candles. Since you insist on being open during the worst natural disaster to hit the Big Apple since Rudy Giuliani, let me offer you some suggestions of what to do with your time since there will be no fucking customers:
- Take this time to pull your head out of your ass.
- Take every menu and clean it with a toothbrush so when your restaurant floods, at least you’ll know your menus were clean when they flowed into the East River.
- When the storm hits, step into the walk-in cooler for safety but first alert your servers so they will know to barricade the door with a chair so your ass can stay in there while they swim back to their apartments.
- Clean out the candle holders because you aren’t going to have any fucking electricity and you’re gonna want nice clean votives when you need some fucking light to see your empty fucking restaurant.
- Ask your servers to save the liquor by putting it some place safe like their backpacks and purses.
- Have a sing-along of Dexys Midnight Runner’s song “Come On Eileen” but just change it to “Irene” because it’s close enough and that song is way better than “Rock Me Like A Hurricane” by the Scorpions.
- Play a game of Truth or Dare with your employees and when they dare you to go to the roof and hold a metal spatula into the air, just do it. I dare ya.
- Use the time to scrape all the gum from underneath the tables and then you can use it for the special of the day on Monday since all of your food is going to go bad when you lose your fucking power because of the hurricane.
- Grow some balls.
Good luck to all those in the path of the storm. Sorry to Catharine who has to go to work. Be safe, be careful, be drunk.