Is It On?
In February of 1989, I took my first job working at Kingsway restaurant at the age of 15. While it feels like a lifetime ago, I still remember so much of what I learned there. Kingsway was the local greasy spoon in town, popular for it’s breakfast, and it’s claim to fame the “King Cheddar”, a big bacon cheddar cheeseburger. Also, it was the town coffee shop, where a steady array of regulars funneled in and out throughout the day to drink from the bottomless cup of coffee and shoot the breeze for a buck. Picture Cheers but with coffee instead of beer. We had our “Norm” who was named Sam who would order “a pancake” instead of an order of “pancakes”. Which was basically code for give him a really big pancake instead of 4 small ones so he could pay less, but since he came in daily it was just what you did.
As a freshman in high school, I had no clue what I was walking into on my first day as a dishwasher. I was handed two brown shirts with a butterfly collar. For those young enough not to know what that is, Google “butterfly collar 70s.” And yes, that’s “70s” even though this was 1989.
When I walked in through the back creaky door of the restaurant, an immediate onslaught hit my senses. First, the smell. Grease. Bacon. More grease. More bacon. Then my face was hit with a fresh wave of steam from the dishwashing area. And finally, the sticky feeling under my shoes as I stepped further into this restaurant world.
A manager walked over, tossed an apron at me, and said, “Go there,” pointing to the dishwasher area. That was the full extent of my training.
I walked over, and the dishwasher on shift stopped long enough to give me a quick overview. Empty and sort the bus pans. Stack the dishes. Spray them. Push them into the machine. Push the button. Unload. Repeat. Over and over again until the day was done.
My first shift was eight hours at $3.25 an hour.
What I didn’t know that day was that this job would lay the foundation for my work life moving forward.
As my high school years progressed, I learned every position at Kingsway. I cooked. I waited tables. I hosted. I counted the drawer. Most importantly, I learned how to fix problems.
The owner would pop in whenever something wasn’t working and usually just do a quick walkthrough to make sure nothing was on fire.
One morning, I was on opening duty, which meant arriving at 4:30 a.m. He stopped in and asked if everything was good. I told him yes, except one fryer didn’t seem to be working. He examined it, flipped the on and off switch a few times, checked to see if it was plugged in, and then walked to the back of the restaurant.
Curious, I followed him.
He went to the circuit breaker panel, said, “Voila,” and flipped the breaker back on.
The panel was located in the same corner where the brooms and mop heads were stored, or maybe thrown, depending on the day. The circuit panel door had been left open, and a broom must have bumped the switch.
He turned to me and said, “Ryan, 90 percent of the problems you’ll encounter here can be solved by checking: Is it on? Is it plugged in? And have you checked the circuit breaker?”
That lesson stuck with me for life. Remember the basics. Simplify. Often the simplest answer is the solution.
Fast forward to last week. I was on a call with a new client. He has a successful and growing business, but to reach the next level he needs to expand and advertise.
His thoughts were coming rapid fire, which I love. I enjoy a good brain dump.
After our second conversation, I said, “Your A service is more profitable and less competitive. Your B service is less profitable and more competitive. Let’s focus on marketing the A service.”
He paused and said, “That’s so simple. Why didn’t I think of that?”
I told him, “You’re an owner wearing a ton of hats. Your days are full and fast moving. Sometimes it’s hard to step back and realize you might just need to flip the switch back to on.”
