Why Wait To Be Told

What I Expect, What I Get, and the Lost Art of Just Doing Your Damn Job

The food and beverage industry just might be the only business on the planet where you can hire someone, train them, show them exactly what needs done, and somehow still end up wondering why the job isn’t getting done.

Maybe it’s like this everywhere. I don’t know. I can only speak from my own experience, and I’ve got plenty of that.

So if there’s even a remote chance that you’ll someday scroll past a restaurant job posting and think, Hey, I could do that, I sincerely hope this blog finds you first.

Because we’re going to talk about what I expect versus what I get. And, more importantly, what I think a normal day at work should actually look like.

SHOW UP READY TO WORK

When you walk into the building for your shift, I expect you to be ready to work. Wild concept, apparently.

That means ready to take care of whatever needs done within your job, not personal business, extended phone time, standing around bullshitting, or my personal favorite: finding tiny, meaningless things to do so you can look busy without actually accomplishing anything.

There is a huge difference between being at work and working.

Restaurant owners know the difference. Trust me. We see you wiping the same six-inch section of countertop for the fourth time.

FRONT OF HOUSE: LEARN YOUR BUSINESS

If you work FOH -Front of House- here’s the traditional career path:

Apply for the job. Interview for the job. Oversell yourself so you sound incredibly capable. Accept the job. Get trained. Hustle like crazy while everyone is watching.

Then, once you’re comfortable, see exactly how little you can get away with doing.

Perfect. Or, and stay with me here, you could actually learn the business you applied to work in. Before you ever clock in, learn the products you’re selling.

At my place, that means a shit ton of beer and some pretty damn good food.

Learn the beer. What style is it? Where is it from? What’s interesting about it? What’s the story behind the brewery or the can art? Customers love a good story. Check your product.

Restock what needs restocked. If something is low or out, write it on one of the whiteboards provided specifically for that purpose.

Know what soda brands we carry. Check the bag-in-boxes. Know how to change one. Walk through the areas where customers are going to sit and eat. Are the tables clean? Is there food on the floor? Did somebody spill something? Don’t step over it six times waiting for another human being to discover it.

Know how to use the POS. Know how to change a keg. Tapping a keg is incredibly simple unless you decide to turn it into an advanced science project.

Know where things are stocked. And please understand that napkins, condiments, coffee, salt, pepper, sugars, creamers, dressings and every other little thing a restaurant needs do not magically refill themselves overnight.

If you couldn’t restock something at the end of your previous shift, then when you walk in for the next one, get on it.

And if your attitude is: “Someone else will do it.” Then you are probably not the right fit for this business.

ONCE THE RUSH ENDS, YOUR JOB DOESN’T

Working in food and beverage is supposed to be fun. And a lot of the time, it is. There are also moments when you’re getting absolutely murdered, tickets are flying, customers are everywhere and you become convinced the rush will never end.

Every job has those moments. But eventually the dust settles. And when it does, guess what? There is still a job to do.

YOUR job. The absence of customers does not mean the beginning of recess.

AND NOW… THE BANE OF MY EXISTENCE: BOH

Back of House. The magical land capable of sending me spiraling into another dimension.

The process starts the same way.

Apply. Interview. Tell me how experienced you are. Tell me everything you can cook. Tell me how busy your last restaurant was. Tell me all the things your last job made you do, then don’t do it here.

Get hired. Get trained. Learn the menu. Get shown exactly how things are prepared.

Then have a complete meltdown the first time you’re required to actually cook during a rush. Fantastic.

But before any of that happens, let’s start with something simpler.

Get to work on time.

And in a restaurant, “on time” doesn’t mean flying through the door at the exact second your shift starts and then spending fifteen minutes getting yourself situated. 20 minutes early is on time!

Be ready. Know the menu. Know the portions. Know how dishes are supposed to look.

Most importantly, understand that the customer who orders something Tuesday should receive essentially the same dish as the customer who orders it Friday.

Consistency matters. Every plate. Every shift. Every time.

PREP ISN’T OPTIONAL

Prep might be the least glamorous and most important part of a restaurant kitchen. What needs done will vary from restaurant to restaurant.

At mine? There’s a list.

Appetizers need portioned and bagged every single day.

Chicken needs cooked, sliced and diced for the appropriate recipes. Pasta sauce needs made. Chili needs cooked. BBQ pulled pork needs cooked, pulled, portioned and stored. Beef needs cooked and sliced. Mac & cheese needs made. Coleslaw needs made, with backup.

Potato chippers need cooked and prepped. Dressings need portioned. Cheeses needs portioned and wrapped. Product in the walk-in needs unboxed, organized and stacked properly.

Stations need checked and completely stocked before service. Menu items need cooked according to the recipes and required temperatures.

Ranch needs made… which, based on the amount people consume, may actually be the single most important substance keeping American society together.

And then there’s cleaning. Sweep. Mop. Check the trash throughout the building. Take it to the dumpster. None of this is exciting. None of it makes you a celebrity chef.

But all of it is the job. The same job you saw advertised. The same job you applied for. The same job you sat across from me and said you were capable of doing. And the same job you’re being paid to perform.

“NOBODY TOLD ME”

This one absolutely kills me. “Nobody told me to do it.” Why should they have to?

If you’ve worked somewhere for a year, why does another adult need to tell you that the thing you’ve done hundreds of times needs done again today?

If the ranch gets made every day… MAKE THE DAMN RANCH.

If the station gets stocked every day… STOCK THE STATION.

If the trash is full… TAKE OUT THE TRASH.

If something is empty… REFILL IT.

If something is dirty… CLEAN IT.

You don’t need a meeting. You don’t need a memo. You don’t need someone standing over you providing turn-by-turn navigation like restaurant GPS.

Seeing what needs done and doing it is part of the job. That’s the piece people seem to miss.

CRITICISM ISN’T AN ATTACK

Here’s another disappearing skill: Being able to hear that you did something wrong without acting like you’ve just been personally betrayed.

Restaurant work requires correction. Food gets sent back. Mistakes happen. Someone is going to tell you that something wasn’t done correctly.

That’s not necessarily an attack. That’s information. Fix it. Learn from it. Get better.

I’ve made mistakes my entire career. I’ll make more tomorrow. The difference is what you do after somebody points one out.

You can get defensive. You can blame someone else. You can sulk for the rest of the shift.

Or you can say: “Got it.” And make sure it doesn’t happen again. One of those responses makes you better.

THE SECRET ISN’T REALLY A SECRET

The food and beverage industry comes with some great perks. It can be chaotic, hilarious, exhausting and ridiculously fun, sometimes all within the same fifteen minutes.

And succeeding in it isn’t complicated. Manage your time. Prioritize. Use some common sense. Have a sense of urgency when urgency is required.

Show up. Be ready. Learn your job. Pay attention. Have some pride in what you do. Hold yourself accountable. Accept criticism. Learn from failure. And when you see something that needs done…

DO IT.

I’ve watched far too many people fail at seemingly simple tasks, and I keep coming back to the same question: Why?

Nobody expects perfection. I certainly don’t. But I do expect effort. I expect awareness. I expect you to give a shit. Because somebody is always paying attention.

Your coworkers notice. Your managers notice. Your customers notice. And your owner definitely notices.

So make sure when the people paying attention see you, they’re thinking: “I’m glad that person works here.”

Not: “What the hell are you doing here?”

For Sale By Owner? Please, Just Hire a Damn Realtor

My wife and I have been house shopping for quite some time now.

Most people who know us know that we want to move out of our current neighborhood. So every day, like two emotionally unstable contestants on some horrible HGTV game show, we open the realtor app and search for the one.

The perfect house. The perfect property. The place where we walk through the front door, look at each other, and say, “Yep. This is it.”

Apparently, that house is being guarded by a magical wizard. Because finding it has become unbelievably difficult.

First, can we talk about the price of homes? Holy shit.

We make very good money, and I still find myself scrolling through listings wondering what the hell everyone else does for a living.

Four hundred thousand dollars. Four-fifty. Five hundred thousand.

And sometimes you click on the pictures expecting to see a beautiful, move-in-ready home only to discover that your $400,000 gets you a kitchen from 1987, three different kinds of flooring, a bathroom that needs an exorcism, and a deck that appears to have been constructed during the Reagan administration.

And it still needs renovations. Excuse me? You want half a million dollars and you want me to fix the place?

That’s adorable. But housing prices are an entirely different rant for another day. Because even when you finally find a house you like, now you have to survive the ridiculous logistics of actually buying it.

Our house is basically ready to list. Great! Except we can’t just casually throw it on the market because what happens if it sells immediately?

Congratulations! We’re homeless. So instead, we wait until we find a house we want to buy.

Then we find one. We get excited. We start talking about making an offer. But our house isn’t technically on the market yet.

So while we’re getting everything lined up, somebody else swoops in and buys the house we wanted.

Fantastic. Back to the realtor app. It’s a rat race where you’re simultaneously trying to sell a house, buy another house, coordinate financing, schedule inspections, make offers, negotiate contracts, and somehow avoid living in a Holiday Inn with all your belongings packed into a U-Haul.

And then… For Sale By Owner enters the chat.

Oh, good. Because apparently this process wasn’t complicated enough already.

Look, I understand the thought process. “Why should I pay a realtor when I can sell my house myself?”

Because the rest of us have jobs, Susan.

People work. They have businesses. Kids have sports. Families have schedules. People have appointments, obligations, and lives that don’t magically stop because somebody wants to walk through your house at 6:15 on a Tuesday evening.

Now the buyer has to contact the homeowner. The homeowner has to check their schedule.

The buyer checks theirs. Someone can’t do Tuesday. Someone suggests Wednesday. Wednesday doesn’t work.

“How about Thursday at 5:30?”

“Can you do 6:00?” “No, my kid has a game.”

Jesus Christ. Hire a damn realtor.

You know what happens when professionals are involved? I tell my realtor, “I’d like to see that house.”

And then, through some sort of sorcery apparently unavailable to the rest of civilization, a showing gets scheduled.

Beautiful. Efficient. Civilized.

And there’s another benefit nobody talks about enough: I don’t have to tour your house with you standing there.

Because that is weird. House hunting requires saying things you absolutely should not say in front of the person who currently owns the house.

“Why the hell would anyone put tile there?”

Meanwhile, the homeowner is standing six feet away thinking: I put that tile there. Wonderful. Now we’re all uncomfortable.

Or you’re walking through the kitchen whispering to your wife: “This countertop has GOT to go.” And somewhere behind you the homeowner is thinking:

We installed that last year. Perfect.

Nothing makes a real estate transaction smoother than accidentally insulting someone’s taste while standing in their living room.

That’s why having realtors involved works. The seller leaves. The buyer looks around freely. People can ask questions. People can criticize things. People can talk honestly about renovations without worrying that Karen is hiding behind the pantry door clutching her Live Laugh Love sign.

And here’s my biggest question for the For Sale By Owner crowd:

How much money are you really saving?

Because selling a house isn’t just sticking a sign in the yard and waiting for someone to show up carrying a briefcase full of money.

There’s pricing. Marketing. Showings. Negotiations. Contracts. Inspections. Appraisals. Deadlines. Contingencies. Financing. Closing.

And approximately 47 opportunities for something to go sideways. Sometimes paying a professional isn’t wasting money. Sometimes you’re paying someone because they know how to do something you don’t.

That’s literally why professions exist. I own a restaurant. People occasionally look at what we do and think running a restaurant can’t possibly be that complicated.

Buy food.

Cook food.

Sell food.

Easy!

Sure.

Come spend a Saturday night behind the scenes and we’ll revisit that theory around 8:15 when the printer hasn’t stopped screaming for forty minutes, somebody called off, table 8 wants to know where their wings are, and we’re somehow out of something we had seventeen cases of yesterday.

Every profession looks easy from the outside. Until you actually have to do it.

Real estate is no different. So maybe the next time something comes up in your profession and you find yourself wondering why people think they can do your job without any experience, remember that feeling.

Because somewhere out there, a realtor is probably thinking the exact same thing. Stop making this harder than it already is.

Price your house for what it’s actually worth. Hire a professional. Leave during the showing. And let me walk through your kitchen and quietly tell my wife how much I hate your backsplash without having to look you in the eyes afterward.

Everybody wins.

Place Your Orders, Pay Your Bills & Pray Somebody Loads the Truck

There is something happening in the food and beverage industry that I don’t think enough people are talking about.

The supply chain isn’t just struggling. In some places, accountability has damn near disappeared.

Now before somebody from a distribution company gets their feelings hurt, let me be clear: I understand the world we’re working in.

COVID changed the workforce. Inflation changed pricing. Labor shortages changed operations. Food shortages happened. Transportation became more difficult. Finding good employees became harder. Keeping good employees became even harder.

And small-business owners felt every bit of it.

We still do. I’ve owned and operated a restaurant through all of this. I understand that sometimes a product isn’t available. I understand that a truck can break down. I understand that somebody can call off. I understand that mistakes happen.

What I don’t understand is how the mistakes keep happening with seemingly no accountability.

The Distributor Missed. Guess Who Gets Blamed?

Here’s a scenario that happens far more often than it should.

We place an order. We order the ground beef. We order the specialty IPA. We order the wings. We order the produce.

We do our part. Then the truck arrives.

And guess what’s missing? The ground beef. Or the beer. Or half the damn order. $7800 worth of food. And only $3000 worth shows up!

Maybe it wasn’t loaded. Maybe it was out of stock. Maybe somebody entered the order incorrectly. Maybe the warehouse screwed it up. Maybe nobody knows what happened.

And honestly, sometimes we don’t even get a particularly useful explanation.

But here’s the problem:

The customer doesn’t care whose fault it was.

And I understand that. If you walk into my restaurant and I advertise a particular burger, beer, wing flavor or special and I don’t have it, you’re disappointed.

You should be. But here’s the part customers don’t always see:

It isn’t necessarily the restaurant that failed to provide it.

We ordered it. We paid for it. We were told it was coming.

And somebody simply didn’t put it on the truck. Yet I’m the person standing there apologizing. I’m the person explaining why we don’t have it.

I’m the person watching a customer walk out because we couldn’t provide what they wanted. And I’m the person who still has to pay the vendor bills.

Because Apparently the Money Always Gets Loaded

This is where my frustration really starts. If a small business doesn’t have a product to sell because a distributor failed to deliver it, does the distributor lose revenue?

Not at all!

They still expect payment. They still expect invoices paid on time. They still expect us to meet our obligations.

And don’t misunderstand me, I believe businesses should pay their bills. If you owe somebody money, you should pay them.

But there seems to be an incredibly convenient one-way expectation of accountability.

We are expected to be accountable for everything.

Our customers expect us to have the products. Our employees expect us to have the hours. Our landlords expect the rent.

The government expects the taxes. Our vendors expect payment. Our customers expect quality. And our distributors expect orders.

But who holds the distributor accountable when they consistently fail to provide the products we ordered?

Because apparently the answer is:

“Well, we’ll try to do better next week.”

Fantastic. I’ll just tell my customers that.

“Sorry about your dinner. The warehouse is working on it.” I’m sure that’ll go over beautifully.

The Revolving Door

And then there’s the staffing issue.

I understand it. The people working in these industries today aren’t necessarily responsible for creating the labor environment they’re working in.

But at some point, someone has to own the result.

A sales rep doesn’t call. A new rep shows up and doesn’t know the account.

A manager doesn’t return the call. An order doesn’t get entered correctly. A product becomes unavailable and nobody tells you until the truck arrives.

A new product launches and somehow the restaurant doesn’t know about it. A vendor stops by once every six weeks, if that, and asks if you need anything, and disappears again.

Meanwhile, there are customers asking us: “Why don’t you have this?”

Because we didn’t know it existed. Or because it wasn’t available. Or because nobody bothered to tell us. Or because we ordered it and someone didn’t load it.

And we’re the ones who look incompetent.

That’s the part that pisses me off.

Because I’ve spent a lifetime in the food and beverage business trying to do this correctly.

There are people in this industry who have spent decades learning products, building relationships, understanding restaurants and helping operators succeed. And when someone comes into the industry with zero ownership, zero communication and zero urgency, they don’t just make their company look bad.

They make the rest of us look bad.

Not Every Vendor Is the Problem

And here’s where I want to give credit where credit is due.

There are vendors and distributors who absolutely get it. You know the ones. The reps who actually call. The ones who stop in. The ones who know what you’re selling.

The ones who tell you about a new product before you hear about it from a customer.

The ones who say: “Hey, I noticed you’re selling a lot of this. We’ve got something new coming in that I think you’d like.”

Those people are valuable.

That’s what a vendor relationship is supposed to be.

It’s supposed to be a relationship. Not:“Here’s your invoice. See you next week.”

Your success should matter to the people selling you the products that make your business successful.

Because here’s a crazy concept: If I make money, I buy more from you.

If my restaurant grows, your sales grow. If I add products, your sales grow. If I open another location, your sales grow.

My success is literally part of your business model. So why wouldn’t you want me to succeed?

So What Do We Do About It?

Here’s the uncomfortable answer:

We vote with our wallets.

I’ve completely stopped ordering from some vendors. Call it a boycott if you want. I call it business.

If a company consistently can’t provide what I need, consistently can’t communicate, consistently makes mistakes and consistently expects me to absorb the consequences of those mistakes, eventually I have to make a decision.

It’s not personal. It’s business.

There are other companies willing to earn my money. And that’s really the only leverage a small business has.

We can’t force a giant distributor to care about our profit margin. We can’t force a warehouse employee to load our order correctly.

We can’t force a sales rep to return a phone call. We can’t force corporate executives to understand what happens on the other end of their supply chain.

But we can choose where we spend our money.

And maybe that’s where accountability begins.

The Customer Doesn’t See the Broken Chain

This might be the biggest problem of all.

The customer sees the restaurant. They don’t see the distributor. They don’t see the warehouse. They don’t see the order confirmation. They don’t see the missing pallet. They don’t see the email we sent. They don’t see the phone calls. They don’t see the employee who didn’t load the truck.

They see an empty shelf. They see “86’d.” They see “Sorry, we’re out.”

And they blame the establishment. Sometimes that’s fair. Sometimes it absolutely isn’t. Because the restaurant can only sell what it has. And we can only sell what somebody actually delivers.

You can’t cook what isn’t in the building.

The Food & Beverage Industry Deserves Better

I’m not asking for perfection. Mistakes happen. People screw up. Trucks break down. Products go out of stock. Employees call off.

That’s life. What I’m asking for is accountability and communication.

Tell me you screwed up. Tell me the product isn’t coming. Tell me before the truck gets here. Give me an alternative.

Have a backup plan. Know my business. Know what I sell. Know what I normally order.

And for God’s sake, if you know something isn’t going to be available, don’t make me find out from the delivery driver.

We’re all trying to survive the same post-COVID business environment.

Small businesses are fighting rising costs, labor shortages, inflation, regulations, insurance, taxes and customers who are already paying more for less.

We don’t need our vendors making the job harder than it already is.

Because when you consistently fail to deliver the products we’ve ordered, you’re not just inconveniencing us.

You’re costing us sales.

You’re disappointing our customers. You’re damaging our reputation. And you’re making us look like we don’t know what we’re doing.

Eventually, we have a choice. We find another vendor. So here’s the new business model:

Place your orders. Pay your bills. Hope somebody competent loads the truck.

And if they don’t? Well…

there’s always another vendor willing to take your money.

Maybe that’s the accountability we’ve been missing all along.

Teamwork Wins Championships

At Basil’s, we don’t believe in “my table.”

We believe in our guests.

That might sound like a small difference, but it changes everything.

A guest doesn’t know, or care, whose section they’re sitting in.

They don’t see sections. They see one restaurant. They see one team.

And every interaction they have shapes their opinion of Basil’s.

If you’re walking past a table and notice an empty drink, don’t keep walking because it isn’t your table.

If a guest asks for ranch, extra napkins, another beer, or a to-go box, help them.

If food is sitting in the kitchen getting cold, run it.

If another server gets double-seated, greet the new table while they finish taking an order.

The question shouldn’t be:

“Is this my table?”

The question should be:

“What does this guest need right now?”

Communication is the Glue

Helping another server doesn’t mean creating confusion.

It means communicating.

If a guest adds another drink…

Tell the server.

If they decide to add an appetizer…

Tell the server.

If they ask for dessert after you’ve cleared the plates…

Tell the server.

Thirty seconds of communication can prevent ten minutes of confusion.

Guests shouldn’t have to repeat themselves because we didn’t communicate with each other.

The smoother we communicate, the smoother their experience feels.

We Share Tips Because We Share Success

At Basil’s, we tip-share for a reason.

Hospitality is a team sport. No one wins by themselves. When one server is overwhelmed, the entire restaurant feels it.

When one server gets behind, drinks take longer.

Food sits in the kitchen. Tables wait. Guests become frustrated.

But when everyone jumps in, the dining room flows.

One person runs food. Another refills drinks. Someone else clears plates.

Suddenly, what looked like chaos becomes teamwork.

When everyone helps, everyone succeeds.

Don’t Walk Empty

One of the simplest habits you can build is this:

Never make a wasted trip.

Walking to the kitchen? Take dirty dishes.

Coming back to the dining room? Carry food.

Passing the drink station? Refill something.

Walking past a table? Scan it.

Can you clear a plate?

Refill a drink?

Deliver ketchup?

Every trip should accomplish more than one task.

That’s not working harder. That’s working smarter.

One Team. One Dining Room.

Championship teams don’t ask,

“Whose job is this?”

They ask,

“What does the team need right now?”

That’s the culture we’re building at Basil’s.

Not a group of individual servers.

ONE TEAM.

One dining room.

One guest experience.

Because at the end of the night, guests won’t remember who owned Table 2.

They’ll remember how everyone made them feel.

What Makes a Great Employee?

Since I was about fifteen years old, I’ve been an employee somewhere. Every job taught me something, but the biggest lesson wasn’t how to flip burgers, stock shelves, or answer calls.

It was how to work.

More importantly, it was how to be a teammate.

I was taught two simple rules early on:

Never let your boss catch you standing around.
Never let your boss do your work.

Those two lessons have stayed with me for decades.

To me, a great employee isn’t the loudest person in the room or the one constantly reminding everyone how hard they work. A great employee shows up on time. They don’t spend their shift complaining. They’re confident in their abilities but humble enough to keep learning. They finish the job correctly the first time because doing it right matters.

And when the shift is over?

They don’t sprint for the door while someone else is drowning.

They stay. They help.

Because they understand something that too many people have forgotten: when one teammate struggles, the whole team struggles.

The best employees don’t need to be told what to do next. They always find something productive. They take pride in their work, no matter how small the task. They don’t participate in workplace gossip, and they certainly don’t become the source of the drama.

Work isn’t high school. It’s a team sport.

For years, I was the employee. Today, I’m the boss. Ironically, I still think I was a better employee than I am a boss.

When I watch everyone clock out and one employee is left buried with dishes, cleaning, or closing duties, I don’t stand back and supervise.

I grab a towel. I pick up a mop. I jump in.

Because that’s what teammates do.

Titles don’t make people leaders. Actions do.

Someday, every employee gets a reputation. Some become the person management worries about every time they’re scheduled. Others become the person everyone hopes is working because they know the job will get done.

Which one are you becoming?

The wake-up call may never come for some people. But if it does, don’t waste it. Be the employee your coworkers are thankful to work beside.

Be the employee your manager can count on without a second thought.

Be the kind of worker a company is proud to have. Because people may forget what job you had…

But they’ll never forget what kind of teammate you were.

The Roofing Crew

The other day, I looked out the window and noticed a roofing crew pulling into my neighbor’s driveway. The job wasn’t small either, a house and a detached garage. What happened over the next few hours was something most people would barely notice, but it ended up being a lesson in business, teamwork, and work ethic.

The first thing that stood out was how organized the crew was. This wasn’t a group of guys randomly swinging hammers and hoping for the best. This was a well-oiled machine.

Two men worked on the roof tearing off the old shingles. Supporting them were two additional workers whose sole responsibility was keeping the debris moving and making sure nothing piled up or slowed the process. On the ground, three more crew members stayed busy. Two gathered and stacked old shingles while a third operated some type of powered wagon, constantly moving around the property collecting debris as fast as it was generated.

Then another crew member stepped in, operating a lift that delivered bundles of new shingles directly to the roof.

As soon as the old roof was stripped away, the operation shifted gears. The two roofers immediately began installing the new shingles while the support crew opened bundles, staged materials, and ensured the installers never had to stop working. There was no standing around. No confusion. No wasted movement. Every person knew exactly what needed done.

The remarkable part?

The entire project was completed in less than four hours.

Watching them, it became obvious that the speed wasn’t the impressive part. The teamwork was.

Every employee had a specific role. Every employee understood that role. And every employee executed it with confidence. Nobody was trying to do someone else’s job. Nobody was waiting to be told what to do next. There was no horseplay, no distractions, and no wasted energy. From the moment they arrived until the last piece of debris was hauled away, it was all business.

As a business owner, that observation hit home.

Success isn’t always about having the most talented individual employees. It’s about having a team that works together toward a common goal. When everyone understands their responsibilities and trusts the people around them to do theirs, incredible things can happen. Productivity increases. Stress decreases. Customers are happier. The entire operation runs smoother.

The opposite is also true.

When employees don’t know their responsibilities, lack confidence in their abilities, or require constant supervision, business owners find themselves stepping in to finish tasks, solve preventable problems, and carry burdens they shouldn’t have to carry. Instead of leading the business forward, they’re stuck dragging it along.

The roofing crew reminded me of something simple but powerful: great teams aren’t built by accident. They’re built through training, accountability, experience, and a shared commitment to doing the job right.

Maybe that’s why it’s worth occasionally stopping to watch people work.

Whether it’s a roofing crew, a construction site, a restaurant kitchen, a mechanic’s shop, or a landscaping company, there is something to be learned from people who take pride in their craft. Sometimes the lesson isn’t even about the job they’re doing.

Sometimes the lesson is about discipline. Sometimes it’s about teamwork.

And sometimes it’s a reminder to take a hard look at ourselves and ask a simple question:

Am I helping my team move the job forward… or am I the reason it slows down?

That’s a lesson worth learning from a roofing crew!

The Character Test

Don’t wish it were easier, wish you were better

Everyone wants the big job. The important project. The responsibility. The promotion.

But the truth is, most people don’t want to hear: your character shows up in the small stuff first.

When someone is given a simple task, something basic, even minuscule, and they underperform, it tells you everything you need to know about that person.

Because that task wasn’t given to insult you. It wasn’t given because you’re not capable of something bigger.

It was given because details matter, and the small things are where you learn them. The small tasks are where you dial in your work ethic and where you learn to take pride in your work and your company.

Every. Little. Detail.

Washing dishes. Cleaning countertops. Dusting shelves. Wiping menus. Putting things back where they belong.

There’s a moment in Memory of a Killer where Dutch breaks it down in a way that sticks. He tells Joe that washing dishes isn’t about dishes. It’s about discipline. It’s about doing something simple, the right way, every time. Because if you cut corners there, you’ll cut corners everywhere. https://www.hulu.com/series/cb030381-ce34-4204-86ba-ba6fcff7d5b1?cmp=&utm_source=bing&utm_medium=cpc&utm_campaign=&utm_term=memory%20of%20a%20killer&&msclkid=1664af4b69c517bebd40c6a546b13ed7&gclid=1664af4b69c517bebd40c6a546b13ed7&gclsrc=3p.ds&gad_source=7&gad_campaignid=23234781091

Do the job the right way, even when nobody is watching… Because the truth is, someone is always watching.

Those small actions reveal something important: PRIDE.

People who take pride in simple work tend to be the ones trusted with complicated work later.

The opposite is also true.

If someone can’t handle the small things with care, attention, and effort, then handing them a bigger project with dozens of moving parts isn’t a promotion. It’s a disaster waiting to happen.

Because bigger jobs are just hundreds of small details stacked together. For example, my business could use someone to take on more responsibilities, but that pride and character we look for hasn’t presented itself just yet.

And if you ignore the little things, the big things collapse. Every great worker, leader, or craftsman understands this instinctively.

You earn trust by proving one thing first:

That no job is beneath you, and every task you touch will be done the best way you know how.

Not because someone told you to. But because that’s who you are.

Waiting in Queue of Life

You ever sit on hold during a phone call or stuck in a drive-thru line and start thinking, this is taking way longer than it should?

You check the clock. You shift in your seat. You start debating… Do I hang up? Do I pull away? Or do I just keep waiting?

Lately, that’s exactly what my life feels like.

Like I’m in a queue. Waiting.

Waiting on answers about my health. Waiting on doctors to decide what comes next. Waiting on someone else to come up with a plan for my life.

I’ve done everything I’ve been asked to do… and I’m still here.bStill waiting.

And then there’s the bigger question that creeps in when things get quiet…

Where am I actually going? How long is it going to take to get there?

And the one that hits the hardest… Do I ever get there at all?

Because I don’t mind working. I never have. I love cooking. I love creating. I love giving people something they enjoy.

But right now? I don’t get to do that.

And maybe one day I will again. Maybe I’ll get back to doing what I’m good at, what I love.

But until then… I’m stuck in the queue.

And the longer I stand here, the more I start thinking about everything I’m missing.

Not just retirement, that fantasy we all chase like it’s guaranteed, but the simple things: Travel. Time with people who matter. Sitting in a chair with a book and no interruptions.

I see people my age doing those things… and yeah, there’s a little jealousy there. I won’t pretend there isn’t.

Because while they’re moving forward… I’m still waiting for my number to be called.

They say timing is everything. That everyone’s opportunity comes at a different moments.

Maybe that’s true. But waiting has a way of messing with your head.

It makes you compare timelines. It makes you question your path.

And if you sit there long enough… it starts to break your faith in the whole process.

People love to say, “Be patient. Trust the process.” But what if the process never calls your name?

So then you start asking different questions…

Is this time supposed to be preparation? Am I building something while I’m stuck here?

Because if I’m being honest… I don’t feel prepared for some peaceful, easy life down the road.

And that’s when the hardest truth shows up. We love to blame external factors, bad timing, bad luck, things outside our control.

And sure, some of that is real. But not all of it. Some of the reasons I’m still in this line?

They’re mine. Bad decisions. Wasted money. Choices that felt small at the time but stacked up over years.

Nothing intentional. But real, nonetheless. And those things? They don’t just disappear.

They stand right in front of you… holding your place in line.

So for now… I stay on hold. In the queue.

Not because I love it. Not because I believe in it.

But because I don’t know what happens if I step out of it. And maybe that’s the real question… How long do you stay in line before you finally decide… to hang up?

My Wishlist

An Unhealthy Way to Manage

Today’s blog is an angry rant. A painful, physically and mentally painful testament to why being in charge of people is an unhealthy stressor. How the constant repetition of explaining and showing how to do things is tiresome to the point of extreme exhaustion.

Reliability is at an all time low. Accountability is nonexistent. I wish making excuses and not owning up to wrongdoings was a fireable offense!

I wish employees would do their actual jobs and stop conducting their personal business while on company time.

I wish I could convey these messages and people hear them, believe in them and actually respond and do them.

I wish, because as a child we grow up fast and are taught to believe and make wishes. I’d rather be taught at a young age that failure is real and relying on others will break you!

I wish, I could stop wishing… I write because this is my release and my way to vent… I can type without being interrupted.

Confidence doesn’t exist in people anymore. Belief in oneself is a missing trait and because of that most work is incomplete or incorrect.

My final wish is to see an influx in solid, confident and skilled workers who accept accountability and put the business first before online shopping, family matters, chatting up strangers and friends and ignoring phone calls.

It’s all wishful thinking, not because I don’t think people exist out there who do the job right, but because I don’t think many people out there actually care…..

Building Culture or Tearing It Down

“A man’s character isn’t measured by the job he has, but by how well he does the job in front of him.”

There’s a silent problem happening in a lot of workplaces today, and most people don’t even realize it’s happening.

It’s not bad management. It’s not low wages. It’s not even the economy.

It’s culture.

And culture isn’t created by mission statements, motivational posters, or manager speeches. Culture is created by what people are willing to do… and what they refuse to do.

In today’s society, too many people believe certain work is beneath them.

The janitor is treated differently than the CEO.

The dishwasher is overlooked while the chef gets the praise.

The person sweeping the floor is invisible to the person signing the checks.

But here’s the truth most people miss:

The tedious work is what keeps everything running. Floors have to be swept. Bathrooms have to be cleaned. Equipment has to be wiped down. Prep has to be done. Trash has to be taken out.

These aren’t glamorous jobs. No one brags about them. But without them, businesses fall apart faster than people realize.

You can have the best leadership, the best product, and the best marketing in the world… but if the little things stop getting done, the entire operation slowly starts to decay.

I’ve seen it happen more times than I can count.

The Family Business Trap

In family-run businesses, there’s another problem that quietly develops.

When employees don’t do the small jobs, the family steps in and does them.

The owners start to clean, wipe and pick up, where employees don’t.

Someone stays late or comes in on closed days to clean and prep what should have been done during a shift.

At first, it seems like the responsible thing to do. You care about the business, so you pick up the slack. But over time, something dangerous happens.

Employees learn a lesson without anyone saying a word:

“If we don’t do it… the family will.”

And just like that, culture starts rebranding itself.

Not because employees are bad people, but because standards are no longer enforced. The invisible work always gets done… just not by the people who were supposed to do it.

The “That’s Not My Job” Mentality

One of the biggest cultural shifts I’ve seen over the years is the rise of the phrase:

“That’s not my job.”

When people start deciding which tasks are “beneath” them, the entire system breaks down.

Successful teams…. whether in sports, the military, or business, all share one common mindset:

Everyone handles the small stuff.

The small tasks are not punishment.

They are the foundation.

When the small things are handled well, the big things become easier. But when the small things are ignored, the big things start falling apart.

Pride in the Work

Some of the best workers I’ve ever known weren’t the ones with the biggest titles.

They were the ones who took pride in whatever task they were given.

Mopping restrooms? Dusting shelves. Raking yards. Shoveling walkways.

They made sure it was all perfect and spotless. They didn’t leave a trail behind them.

It wasn’t about the job itself. It was about pride in doing something well.

That kind of mindset is rare today… but when you find it, it changes everything.

Culture Is Built Through Standards

Here’s the reality most owners eventually learn:

Motivation doesn’t build culture. Standards do. Clear expectations. Accountability. Consistency.

Not speeches. Not slogans. Not empty promises.

If the soda gun needs cleaned, it gets cleaned.

If the floor needs swept, it gets swept.

If the fryer needs scrubbed, it gets scrubbed.

And when it’s someone’s responsibility, they own it. Not tomorrow. Not when someone reminds them.

Right now.

The Hard Truth

When a business starts struggling with culture, it’s easy to blame employees.

But the truth is a little more uncomfortable.

Culture is built or destroyed by what leadership allows.

If the small jobs are constantly ignored and someone else quietly fixes them later, the standard slowly disappears.

People don’t rise to unspoken expectations. They rise to enforced ones.

Respect the Broom

A workplace becomes a stronger place to work when people respect every job, from sweeping the floor to running the company. Because when people take pride in the small things, the big things take care of themselves.

But when the small things are ignored, the entire system begins to crack.

Culture isn’t built by titles.

Culture is built by the willingness to do the work that no one else wants to do.

And sometimes the most important tool in any business isn’t the computer, the fryer, or the cash register.

It’s the hands that hold the mop.