When I moved from Seattle down to San Francisco last August, I didn't have a job. I had always liked the Cole Valley neighborhood, having ventured over one day, upon my release from Lone(r) Mountain. Early in my sophomore year, I made it a point to take my own adventures around the city, because if I stayed in my room too long, I would surely lose my mind (The rooms on the second floor of Lone Mountain resemble either a navy ship or a prison cell). Having transferred to USF after my spending my freshman year living in Chicago's Lincoln Park area and attending DePaul, I didn't really know San Francisco or the people living in it.
After various on-foot excursions to the Marina, the Presidio, Cole Valley and Twin Peaks I stumbled upon a quaint, small restaurant with a yellow awning.
After taking a date to Zazie, it became an instant favorite. When my parents came down to San Francisco for their annual "how are you doing on your own?" visit we went to Zazie. When I moved into my apartment this past August, my roommate, her mother and I went to Zazie. Feeling a little light on income, I had the spent the previous summer as an intern for Fox Sports Net and failed to take in much income, I badly needed a job.
After dinner with my roommate, Lindsay, and her mom, I approached our server (Later i found out his name is Colin, and he gives me a really hard time about everything, but in a good way) and asked if I could speak with the manager. He directed me to Souhail (Soo-Hale) and I swear I pronounced his name incorrectly for the first couple of times I talked to him. Feeling confident, partially a result of the ravioli and red wine, I bluntly said "Do you need a busser or anything like that?" I failed to notice that there was a yellow sign on the front window of the restaurant that read: Busser wanted, inquire inside, or something along those lines.
Souhail told me that in fact, yes they were looking for a new busser and wrote me the name of the daytime manager, Mario. I was to come back the following morning and inquire about becoming a professional plate-taker and table-resetter.
The next morning I walked back to Zazie, my apartment is only about three blocks away, wearing a sweater vest and loafers. I navigated through the sea of people standing outside waiting for a table for brunch, and sauntered to the register when some of the servers had congregated. When told that there was a wait list forming outside, I responded by saying I did not need a table for brunch, but rather I was instructed to come back this morning to talk to Mario about the open busser position. Turns out that Mario wasn't working that day, and in a few minutes I would be talking to the OWNER (!) of Zazie, Jen Piallat.
After handing over my resume (which included no previous experience in the food industry) I proceed to talk myself up and a hard worker, someone who gets along with co-workers and a quick learner. Jen responded not with a serious of challenging questions, but rather looked down at my resume quickly smiled and said "Sure, you seem like you have a great attitude, you’re hired." I must have been beaming brighter than sunshine, as I was walking away a woman at the table outside yelled "Congratulations!" as I was practically skipping down Cole Street.
My first day on the job was not nearly as easy as the application process. I found that while most retail jobs pretty much transfer from one to the next, the food industry works at a different pace. I've spent the past couple of years working at Nordstrom, both in Seattle and San Francisco. One of the main differences I’ve found between the two jobs is the way that time goes by. Working at Nordstrom, even on commission, the busier it is, the faster time goes by. I've found at Zazie, when it’s really busy and I have no time to check my watch, it seems like time is actually going by slower. I have a lot more to do (well actually not more to do, I still just give water, butter, clear plates and re-set tables) in what seems like a shorter amount of time.
The first thing I had to learn was the arrangement of the table, which are of course numbered. In the dining room, the tables are numbered from 1-16 (We sat at tables 10-16). Table number one is the window on your right hand side, and the numbers grow in a clockwise direction if one is look at the front door from the inside, that is, until you get to 7, then 8 is the other window table, 9 behind it, then 10, but 11 is right next to 16 which is against the wall, 12, next to 15, 13 is a four-top (seats four) and 14 is directly in the corner. It’s hard to visualize, which is why I had a mild heart attack the first couple times I heard, "Can i have bread to 9 and 12." So I stood there counting the tables in clockwise order, like a preschooler trying to find a letter in the alphabet. The same pattern is true out on the back patio, the tables range from numbers 1-12. When a server refers to the table outside, it is referred to with the letter P signifying the table is outside. For example, "Water to P4" confused me the first couple times. It seems easy enough, but when you have several other things running through your brain, including everybody’s names, making sure the breads don’t burn in the oven, and check which tables are close to, almost, or done with their food, it can get convoluted.
I still don’t think I’ve mastered it, which is pretty disheartening when you consider I’ve been working there in the same capacity for 10 months now. I have been given increased responsibilities however; on occasion I run the food from the window to the table. That’s a whole new strategy. You have to keep your eye on the tickets the cooks are working on. You have to keep your eyes on the next tables that need to be cleared so the entrees don’t get cold sitting in the window. A couple of times I’ve blown it with the food running, like leaving food in the window too long, but for the most part I think I’ve done a decent/adequate/good job running food.
As an employer, Zazie is great. I'm not just saying that because somebody at work will probably read this post, but as far a work "vibe" goes, Zazie is a great environment to work. It's not like my job is the most glamorous, far from it, but the people who work there are good people, and making down-time conversation is easy. I was lucky enough to have a co-worker the same age with a similar dependency on sports who works the same nights.
Not to dig too far into this idea, but I suppose I can trace all these experiences I've had working at Zazie and living in Cole Valley from taking the initiative a couple years ago and exploring the city by myself. Of course, I would have liked to have had a better room and not be subjected to prison living, but there is something to be said for battling back from adversity. I'm excited for the next struggle.
