WITHER OUR INDUSTRY

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Right when you think you've heard just about everything there is to hear about this industry, someone goes and bursts that notion to smithereens. If you're a fan of the macabre and aren't repulsed by raw violence, read on; otherwise you'd be well advised to avert your eyes.

            I have a good friend in Washington, D.C. who is an extraordinarily talented bartender. Nick Wineriter is honest, good natured and the kind of centered individual that we'd all like to tend at our bar. I could sleep soundly knowing that his hands are in the till. My pal's last gig was at a Washington hotspot called Signatures, which was owned by lobbyist Jack Abramoff. As you can imagine, Signatures is no more.

            Nick was recently hired to help open a successful Italian restaurant concept out of New York, with locations in Miami, Chicago, Puerto Rico, Tokyo, Orlando and Aspen. I've eaten at their original location on West Third Street several times and it's wonderful cuisine, but little did I realize the horrors that lay hidden behind the scenes.

            When our hero attended the orientation meeting, two separate managers told the group that someone from corporate by the name of Marcello would be conducting the training. They both somewhat reluctantly added that Marcello was a screamer.

            Last Monday was the first day of training. True to form, moments after making his opening remarks Marcello started screaming at someone in the back and told the guy to get up and leave. The rest of the session was conducted at the top of his lungs. He informed the group that they would be fired for any infraction. For example, if a bartender were to give a busboy a pitcher of water for the dining room, the bartender would be fired on the spot. (The bartender can only give water directly to a waiter.)

            Marcello bellowed that there would be no second chances and that he doesn't believe in excuses. "Don't you ever, ever talk back to me! You'll be fired on the spot!" He said that when employees are in training they're to sit at attention and not allowed to talk to each other. He informed the group that employees are expected to report to work even when sick. (What?!)

            In a momentarily lapse of judgment, Nick and another bartender raised their hands with questions. Marcello started screaming and said, "Did I say you could ask questions? Don't ever ask a question until I say you can!" That proved the last straw and the next day Nick tendered his letter of resignation.

            Yo, Marcello, where's the riding crop and jackboots, pal? Treating bartenders like dirt went out with goose-stepping and lynch mobs. Congratulations, you've set the fine art of training back centuries.

            The good news is that the hero of the story survived the ordeal with only minor contusions, headaches and blurred vision.

            The bad news is that Marcello is still out there somewhere. 

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