“Tell me about your experience there.”
“I started as a dishwasher when I was twelve,” Mike said, “and over the next ten years I worked just about every job in the place, up to and including sous-chef. On my twenty-first birthday, I started tending bar.”
“So why didn’t you make a career of the family business?”
“I have two older brothers who had that idea, and they’re still there. When the time came for them to take over, I’d still be tending bar.”
“And how long at the Beverly Hills Hotel?”
“Six years. The tips are better than at Franco’s.”
“I would imagine. So you want to make a move here as a bartender? You think the tips would be better here than at the Beverly Hills?”
“I understand you’re going to have four bars here,” Mike said. “What I’d like is to be your head bartender, to manage all four and to fill in when somebody’s out or the traffic is heavy.”
“We haven’t budgeted for a head bartender,” Duggan said.
“So, you’re going to run four bars yourself, in addition to all the restaurants? The bartenders will steal you blind.”
Duggan sat back and regarded the applicant with an appraising eye. “We’re instituting a computer system to regulate that.”
“Yeah? And every time a guest pays cash, half of it will go into the bartender’s pocket.”
“And how would you stop that? What’s your system?”
Mike tapped his temple with a finger. “It’s right in here. I can look at the empties and tell you what a bar took in that night and what the bartender got in tips. Remember, I’m one of them, not one of you.”
“How many bartenders should I hire?” Duggan asked.
“For three restaurants and the pool? Fourteen, plus me. That will cover all the bars for a five-day week and the occasional sick day. Remember, I can always fill in.”
“I had reckoned on sixteen,” Duggan said.
“Count me as two,” Mike said, “and I’d expect to be paid both salaries. I’ll divvy up the tips, and I’ll make up the booze orders every week, saving you the trouble. I’ll deal with the wholesalers, too, if you like. I already know all the salespeople and most of the managers.”
“You’re an ambitious guy,” Duggan said.
“I am. By the time you retire and move on, I’ll want your job. I know the restaurant side, too, and I’m good on wine.”
“Double a bartender’s wages sounds low for all of that,” Duggan said.
“I’d rather be a bargain at first. Pretty soon, you’ll know what I’m worth to you.”
Duggan was impressed. His source at the Beverly Hills had already told him that Mike Gennaro was highly regarded there; the man had an outstanding work record, plenty of charm, and a good ear for a customer’s story. Duggan handed him a sheet of paper. “Here’s the rundown on benefits: health insurance, retirement package, etcetera. This will be the kind of place that will repay loyalty and hard work over the long run. I’m aiming for a very low turnover among employees.”
Mike looked it over. “This is good. Have you hired any bartenders yet?”
“This is the first day I’ve interviewed.”
“If you’ll let me hire them, I’ll have you half a dozen by the end of the day and all of them by the end of the week.”
“I like your style, Mike, but I’ll want to meet your choices.”
“Of course.”
“How soon can you start?”
“I’ll go to work today on the