Not all advice is good advice

The two men arrived in the middle of the rush, which didn't mean much me, but it seemed to matter a lot to them.

“You guys are busy,” said the younger of the two, pointing out the obvious.

And when I say younger, I mean a lot younger — like father and son. Only I got the sense that they weren't actually father and son. Maybe it was the matching trucker hats with a company logo on them or maybe it was the matching jackets. My best guess was co-workers.

“Don't you have any extra stools in the back?” asked the older man.

Gee, why didn't we think of that? I definitely thought, but certainly did not say. Sarcasm is rarely a good look in the service business. Instead, I just shrugged my shoulders. People want what they want and rarely want to hear an explanation.

The consensus around here seems to be that dinner hour is 7:45 to 8:45 p.m., which stands in stark contrast to happy hour, which can range anywhere from 4 to 8 p.m. I don't know how these decisions are reached, but they are. So, I suggest that if you are going out to eat — without reservations — that you adjust your arrival time just a little. Because as little as 15 minutes either way and you might alleviate yourself of a possible 45-minute wait. But it's your time, you do what you want with it.

Sarcasm is rarely a good look in the service business.

Thirty-five minutes later, two seats finally opened up, and the two men sat, both putting their company-branded jackets on their bar stools before they sat. Their branded truckers hats stayed on their heads.

“You kids have to be on your phones 24/7,” said the older man, watching the younger man text on his phone.

“I am just letting my wife know that it took longer to get a seat than we thought,” responded the younger man.

“She's got you pretty well tied up,” chuckled the older man.

“I am not `tied up,' I am just being respectful,” replied the younger man as he texted.

“Call it what you want, kid. I know when someone is `whipped' when I see it.”

“It's called mutual respect,” replied the younger man, holding his ground.

“Whatever.”

Manhattans were ordered, then made, then nursed. Whiskeys had been discussed, disagreed with and then decided upon. The older man had suggested high-proof bourbon, which the younger man rejected.

“What's the matter with you? Are you some kind of lightweight?” asked the older man.