Worst

The Worst

I used to work for a restaurant some years back. Started out as a server, elevated to manager, and then promoted to general manager. The hours were long, but I felt that my loyalty and dedication had paid off, and I was secure with the company. There had been 19 manager turnovers in five years, which should have been a warning for whomever wanted to go grasping for the big prize.

The fateful day I was going to go to Kaiser with my wife after work to verify that indeed she was pregnant. During that shift, the restaurant owner came in, took me to the office and told me flat out they were letting me go. Not because I had done anything wrong , they were just “moving in another direction.” I felt all of my internal organs drop. This was a total blindside and I wasn’t even allowed to say goodbye to my staff with whom I had grown close. Mid shift, I merely disappeared out the back door, never knowing what their reaction was. Needless to say, it was an awkward doctor’s visit and what should’ve been a day of joy was turned into a day of uncertainty and pain. I will never forgive Michael Sternberg for that. To pour salt in the wound, I found out later five minutes after I left a manager from a different restaurant was moved into my position. Why? Because they didn’t have to pay him as much as they paid me. I discovered they were basically going to use the money of my salary to do renovations on another restaurant, a restaurant I am proud to say failed, seven months after opening. The reviews were brutal, people openly mocked the cheap stickers on the awning, covering up Harry’s Tap Room and saying Market Tavern, and I openly celebrated its closing. In this spirit, I wrote a song which I’ve not recorded yet. So try to imagine a scathing bluegrass ditty with maybe a Latin flare bridge for the following lyrics:

Fuck you, Michael Sternberg

Go and eat a burnt turd

Your name is like a dirt word in my ear

Hope you get punched in the solar plexus

Someone keys your Lexus

And your wife just leaves you sexless for a year

One thing you have mastered

Is being a cheap bastard

You replastered the awnings without care

You thought you were so clever

But your Market Tavern endeavor

Failed so hard it was like it was never even there

I’m going to force feed you some lukewarm afterbirth

For never paying your chefs what they’re worth

And all the managers you treated like gnats

Have all been issued fresh new baseball bats

We’re all taking bets as to what

Will be the first thing tumbling out of your gut

We’re so happy we got a….

Human piñata…..

Fuck you Michael Sternberg in the butt