It was business as usual at work Wednesday night until the food runner pointed behind me and said, “Oh my God, does Ian (manager) know about that?” I turned around to find water pouring in around the exit sign and by the time I located the manager it was coming in through every hole in the ceiling. Not everyone’s section was being flooded, just mine actually. All my guests scattered to other tables, most of which had reservations on them, so food was being brought up to flooded empty tables creating complete chaos. One table insisted on a discount so I just informed them that it was their entertainment for the evening, think Rainforest Café, and left them their check. I was on the second floor practically wading to my tables with cocktails that were getting, what I hoped was clean, water dripped into them. It turns out that a woman in the French Quarter Hotel above us was sitting on the porcelain pedestal sink doing her makeup or something when it cracked and ripped the pipes from the wall, flooding the rooms in about six inches of water. The hotel had some trouble locating the cut-off valve on the roof so the restaurant got what we think was around 100 gallons of water before it was over. It was as crazy as it sounds. Someone even asked, “Is this Katrina?!”
Yesterday, I rushed home to meet some Craiglister’s who bought Jen’s old desk from us for $50. I’m so surprised we got that much! Friday night we got a group together for happy hour at local El Ay Si and then headed to Astoria to see “Morning Glory.” It was pretty funny, although I wish Diane Keaton had a greater role in it.
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