An Open Letter

A further update: I have a newer, more recent post, which is a reflection on the immediate aftermath and reactions from the publishing of this letter. I would gratefully appreciate anyone who takes the time to lay their eyes upon both.

Update: On a wise suggestion, and without taking down what I feel has no reason to come down, I have made anonymous to the public the subjects of this letter. But I stand behind every word.

I wrote and made public this letter in the days leading up to Friday, 27th May 2011. I have received many congratulations for it, which I expected, and some requests and suggestions that I remove it, which were also expected. Some of the reasoning I have heard in favor of taking it down are very valid – things that occurred to me, but that I chose to minimize, because, honestly, I didn’t think it would be as sensational or significant as it apparently is. The bigger this gets, the more valid these arguments become, and I may choose to take this down – or I may not. After all, I ask, is this truly a world where my words are more damaging than the actions they describe? It was written in response to real things happening. There is some outrage over what I’ve written. Is there outrage over the actions my words are describing? If my words are true at all, I sincerely hope there is. Whether you who are reading this know [Mr.X] or not, if you wish, I welcome you to weigh in on this option, privately or publicly. As yet, I am undecided. Thanks.

An open letter to [Mr. X], 

[The Company], [City], [State].

From Sherwin Young, until recently, under your employment.

It’s important to me that you know why I quit.

[The Company] advertises on its website, and elsewhere, that its “mission of providing both guests and employees a place to renew their spirit has never wavered.” I think it is generally true that the customers get that. Do your employees?

Your behavior, in almost every way I have witnessed throughout these past 3+ years I have worked at The Company, has been irresponsible, selfish, unprofessional and disrespectful. I think you are self-aware enough to know what I’m talking about.

In general, you have a history of substance abuse, whether with marijuana or alcohol (or both, or… who knows?) that has, to varying degrees, influenced your behavior on the job. The number of times you retreat from your duties as manager to go to the bar next-door, for a shot and to check a game’s score, is countless. An easy defense would be for you to say that I’ve never specifically witnessed these actions, and that’s true. But, [X], your employees can tell when you’re drunk and when you’re high; you’re not fooling anyone.  It is not the act of what you are doing that I find unacceptable, but rather the effect it has on your behavior and performance in the restaurant. But that’s not the reason for why I quit.

You play favorites, but, more importantly, you play what I will call “Not Favorites.” By this, I mean there are some employees who arbitrarily suffer your unjust abuse and temper tantrums. I’ve seen you get in fights with or verbally abuse various employees, often during business hours, in front of customers. I have experienced this firsthand, and I’ve witnessed your similar, more severe, interactions with others. But that’s not the reason for why I quit.

The amount you reward your hard-working employees is virtually nonexistent. When corporate decision-makers clamped down on your labor budget a couple of years ago, your first solution was to take tips away from the [kitchenpositionA] and [kitchenpositionB], and reduce the [kitchenpositionC] to a $7.50/hr tip position. You offered initial lip service about being able to afford higher wages for those who deserved it, but it never showed up in anyone’s paycheck. Except maybe yours, [the asst. front end manager]’s and [the kitchen manager]’s. I guess we were expecting something for us.

Further, I’ve spoken with many of my coworkers, and not once have I heard a happy success story about asking you for a deserved raise. I’ll use myself as an easy recent example: With many experienced employees dropping like flies around you, I was obviously becoming one of the few senior experienced kitchen workers left. I asked you for a modest raise. Your response was that you’d have to ask [the kitchen manager] what he thought. We both know you don’t need [the kitchen manager]’s approval for this. You know how hard your most experienced, hardest workers work. You work with them on weekend nights; you see them in peak performance week after week..

I never saw that last raise. I could have kept on you – bugging you – asking over and over for weeks, if not months, before finally getting the raise I deserved, long after I asked for it. In my experience, this is what your employees have to do; I have no reason to believe that you have ever volunteered to give anyone a raise for being a good, hard worker. But that’s not the reason for why I quit.

I know, from talking with several waitresses, that, in the past, you have lacked basic professionalism at company parties (especially as a married, presumably monogamous, individual). This causes your staff to be uncomfortable when interacting with you, and this lacking only worsens as your level of inebriation rises. This is, of course, not to mention what I have heard about you on the rumor mill recently, and have chosen not to indulge further here. But it’s not the reason for why I quit.

You are paranoid that certain people are taking advantage of you, I am one of them. I can recall many specific examples of you accusing, or “asking” me if I was taking a second Staff [meal] for the week, or if I’d already had my one (or two) drink(s) for my shift(s) of the day. Let me tell you again, as I did in each of those examples: No, I never took advantage of you. I’ve worked at [The Company] long enough that I can remember the “limitless” shift drinks policy of several years ago. As then, and with every policy adjustment along the way, I have always abided by and respected your rules. If I ever took an additional shift drink, it was only after I asked for and received your permission. I don’t think I ever took a second Staff [meal] for the week; but I know that, if I had, I would have asked. But that’s not the reason for why I quit.

When an employee who was covering another’s shift came in one hour early, yet still managed to find work to keep busy, you fired him on the spot, so I’m told. Only after others protested did you reconsider, and ultimately rehire him. But that’s not the reason for why I quit.

You’ve instructed a hostess to lie to a tow truck driver, by telling him that an illegally parked car belonged, not to a friend of yours who was with you on a boat, but to someone who had been rushed to the hospital in diabetic shock. But that’s not the reason for why I quit.

I could go on for pages about the nearly endless ways in which [The Company] is inefficient, disorganized, and poorly managed.  I could offer suggestions and ideas for improvement – if not outright solutions – to [The Company]’s various woes.  Many others could, too.  These problems aren’t all your fault, by any means. Many, by my judgment, go much higher than you in the company’s hierarchy. But that’s not the reason for why I quit.

In March, a friend of mine asked me if she could come in and feed herself and her children at your restaurant, using my Staff[meal] for the week. I had always been under the impression that I could give my Staff [meal] of the week to anyone I wanted. This made sense to me, I thought, because whenever an employee’s friend sat down to a “free” [meal], they also bought drinks from you, additional [meal](s) from you, salads from you, and desserts from you. These things all give you profit, (which I do feel is the one thing you seem pretty consistent about valuing.) So, back in March, when my friend asked me if she could use my Staff [meal], I said yes, knowing that I hadn’t used it myself that week. The friend in question was [my friend], a former [Company] employee who had left the company on good terms and had, to the best of anybody’s knowledge, been on “good terms” with you and the restaurant. Yet, when she came in, you really didn’t want her to get that free flatbread. She ordered beers, salads, a second [meal]… but that wasn’t enough. That free-loading, advantage-taking, single-mother-of-two had some nerve to expect the Staff [meal] that I had promised her. First, you questioned whether I had already used my Staff [meal] on a particular day that week. I demonstrated to you that I had not; not on that day, and not on any other day of the week. With your first means to deny her gone, you made up a new rule on the spot: “No More Staffers For [my friend], Ever.”

I nearly walked out at that moment. But, I pride myself on my thoughtful nature. I quickly rationalized for myself that with the current job market as it is, I would benefit greatly from seeking out another job first. More importantly, I stayed so as to not make the rest of the very busy Friday night any more difficult for my coworkers. I counted up the money I had on hand, $14 – nearly enough to pay for a [basic, low cost meal] - and I gave [my friend] the money.  [X], this is your restaurant, and I will fully allow that you get to make the rules, but I’ll be damned if I am going to go back on my word if I don’t have to. That’s not how I do business. I told her she would get one of those [meal]s compensated, and despite your own efforts, I made it happen, to the best of my abilities at the time, by emptying my own already meager wallet.

So for over three years now I have ignored all these examples of how I don’t like the way you do business. Each time, whether they happen to me, or to someone else – each time, I have ignored them, and continued to work for you. That’s why people stay for so long at [The Company]; each instance by itself is more easily ignored, easier to brush off. But, when measured cumulatively, I feel that a very different picture of you emerges.

Your simultaneous disrespecting of [my friend], and me, was my tipping point. I sincerely hope you can learn to be better for your employees, now, and in the future, than you were for me. Many of them are close friends of mine, and I know they deserve it, whether or not you give it to them. But, if you feel I am wrong, and your behavior has always been respectful, professional, selfless, and responsible, then I expect you will suffer many more “tipping points” in the future. And for however that inconveniences you, you will deserve it.

Since that night in March, I have been taking my time, seeking another job that I can be happy with; a job that can give me some worthwhile experiences; a job that is worth my time spent. Now that I’ve found one, now you know why: I don’t like the way you do business. I quit.

P.S. – I expect this is not a happy letter for you to read. You are welcome to respond to me directly, but allow me to suggest a more constructive approach: I’m done with [The Company], done with you; I’m not worth it. At best I’m a lost cause, and I don’t need apologies, defenses, or retorts. If you feel a need to respond, please address the people who still work for you. They are the ones who still deserve better.