ENABLING AND ENHANCING THE BUSINESS DEVELOPMENT EFFORTS AT PROFESSIONAL SERVICES FIRMS
Everything I learned About Business Development I Learned Waiting Tables
By Dorothy Potash
Everything I learned about business development, I learned when I was a waitress at the Brickskellar in Washington DC when I was a college student. I may have learned more slinging 600 different kinds of beers and pairing them with Monte Christos and Burgers than I did at GW as an English Literature Major. I learned how to write, and how to think at GW, but everything else, I learned at The Brick.
There is a very short amount of time provided to develop a relationship with guests, and a short amount of time to establish credibility. One has to learn how to read non- verbal signals to understand when to check in so that you are helpful, and attentive without being intrusive. One MUST be accountable for the guest experience from the minute a customer sits down, straight through to when they leave out the front door. You have to know when to upsell, when to back off. You have to know how to be warm, and accommodating, yet know your place and not be too familiar. You also have to know how to keep it together when things go wrong, cause they do and always, and mostly, how to control what you can control, and how to respond when it hits the fan.
All of this did NOT come naturally. And believe me, I was not a born waitress. I had a few missteps. Utter failures. Mortifying pathetic, pick yourself up off the floor kind of humbling experiences. The first was at El Torito in Georgetown. A week of pathetic displays until my final humiliation which involved a tray of 8 frozen strawberry margaritas and a very irate woman who made the unfortunate decision to dress in a brand new and very expensive designer, all white pant-suit that tragic evening.
However, I was undeterred, and found a job at a 5 star stuffy French Restaurant in Dupont Circle with my best friend. Tuxedoes, and French service up stairs, Sandy and I controlled the bar downstairs. It was perfect. I am positive we were only hired because we were young, and more importantly too stupid to know that it was not normal to have to rush to the bank with your pay check before it bounced. If we were lucky, we had two tables, and a full bar of old men (one of which was knighted by the Queen) who flirted with us each and every night. We only had 7 customers, but they were regulars, and they loved us, and we made 100 dollars every night for working 4 hours, and barely doing anything but listening.
One evening, these two awful pretentious men sat down. Well, everyone in this cozy elegant little bar knew everyone, kind of like an expensive Cheers, and so, when I met these two newcomers, I made the grave error of welcoming them and telling them my name. The one man, sniffed, and kind of like the harrumph from the kangaroo in “Horton Hears a Hoo” glared at me and said, "I don’t see why waitresses feel the need to introduce themselves. We could care less who you are." I smiled, and in a sweet voice, (not typical for me) said, "Well, it is a small space and the regulars don’t like it when you scream Hey You, so I thought I’d make it easy for you.” The regulars clapped. I learned an important lesson.
This guy then proceeded to order Steak Tartar, Medium Well. I could not get enough. This taught me another great lesson.
After realizing that we were too late, on our third rush to the bank to cash our checks before they bounced, we were forced to find real work elsewhere. And so I did. Dave Alexander took great pity upon me and hired me on the spot at the coolest spot in DC. The INFAMOUS Brickskellar.
The Brick had maybe 600 Beers. Back then, 30 years ago, craft breweries, micro brews, foreign beers from all over the world were no where to be found in most cities. Coronas were novel, and Miller, Bud and Amstel the norm. There were dozens of pages of beers to choose from, from almost every country in the world. No description. Our customers had to rely on us for recommendations. There was no internet, no smart phone to look things up. We had to be the experts. In order to work there, we were required to learn EVERYTHING about the beer menu. Beer education was not so bad…not when you were a starving college student. To make the most out of beer class with renowned Beer expert, Michael Jackson, no one ate all day.
We had to know which beers were light, which heavy, which were malt, which were hoppy, which were fruity, which had the highest alcohol content (Thomas Hardy, Yuck), or delightful Belgium Beers at 8 or 9 %, and which were sweet and which were dry, which were carried by the dogs of monks. We had to know the difference between a Hefeweizen, a Doppleback and which were special beers served for Oktoberfest, or Christmas, and which were good summer beers. We could recite which were best served cold and which were best served at room temperature, which with lemon, which with lime and where they were in the giant walk in that took up half of the square footage of the place.
However, being a beer expert was only half of the battle. I had to develop a quick rapport with the guest, convey that I was able to understand what they wanted out of the evening, and what they may like out of 600 beers. Thus, I very quickly learned when and how to ask the right questions to determine what I needed to know to help them make the best choice. Were they adventurous? Were they on a tight budget? Did they like sweet or fruity beers? Were they walking, cabbing or driving? Was it a 21st birthday, or were they there on business? Were they really wine drinkers, cynical about beer being too pedestrian (this always demanded a Chimay complete with cork and special glass). Were they devoted Bud Light fans? Always went first to a Pilsner Urquell.
The sale of a 50 ounce Grolsch, warranted a celebration, while any server who dared ask the bartender for a Bud Light or a Miller was given the worst possible section the next schedule and teased relentlessly. Sure there were times that we pushed beers because we were collecting rare bottles from Germany, but they were always delicious beers, and you couldn’t just recommend the most expensive beers to make the check larger. You had to really get to know your customer.
You also had to remember you weren’t saving lives. You couldn’t take yourself too seriously, and if you had bitching resting face or looked like you hated your job, it was certainly reflected in your tip, or worse, your guests could find subtle ways to torture you. Most of all, you had to have a healthy sense of humor, because, what could go wrong, would go wrong. Perhaps just as you were delivering a large 200.00 check, a rat would spring out from the wall in the back room. Most unfortunate timing. You had to laugh at yourself, be down to earth, but at the same time you had to really know what you were doing and take control of what was going on. You had to let your guests define the experience, while you guided them.
And boy did we have fun. Though I was a slow learner, I ultimately learned a most important lesson that a waitress should not EVER date the bartender.
I got many job offers while at the Brick. My favorite was a group of executives from a large plastic company who were in for a conference. I sold them like 6 big bottles of beer that were like 78.00 per bottle, in addition to all of the other beer they drank. They thought I was amazing at the upsell, and offered me a job right on the spot.
The friendships I made at the Brick were pretty magnificent. I learned early that work, may be work, but it can still be fun, and I learned that every job requires being an expert at what you do if you want to be successful. All of the skills I learned, I use every day. Sales is tough. It requires grit, and a good sense of humor, engagement, and most importantly, a desire to want to help serve someone else. Not for the tip, but for the sheer pleasure of giving someone a memorable experience. The reward always comes when the giving and the client come first.