Tracey and the Tiramisu

So, I worked in an Italian restaurant called Divino when I was quite young.  The owners Mario and Antonio, were dignified gentlemen from Northern Italy and they ran two places next door to each other.  The restaurant was elegant and the servers were men.  The cafe was a fast paced local favorite that had waitresses. I was one of them. The food was very good and the place was always packed.

Waitressing is tough. However, I look back at this time and remember all the fun we had.  They hired women that sparkled, smart, alive and presentable. We worked hard and made decent money.  It was a time when I was very creative — performing with a comedy group called Premises, Premises, singing back up, dancing, writing and going out to clubs that are now legendary.

I learned about service from these gentlemen. They weren’t interested in hearing the details of what went wrong. All they cared about was that you make it right, instantly. If it was a small matter, you would comp a desert, and up and up till, if the matter was large enough you comped the entire table. They wanted their customers taken care of and to leave happy.  

Tracey was in college when she worked at Divino. She was born and raised in Virginia, her father was a congressman.  She had dark hair, pale skin, delicate features and the bluest of blue eyes. She was lovely and lived an uptown girl life. Tracey taught me an invaluable lesson.

Tracey and I worked the Divino booth at an NYC Street fair.  We served dishes that could be prepared in bulk for a smaller price.  A woman came circling about over and over asking the price of this and the price of that. She wondered if she could be charged less for a smaller portion. I didn’t know how to handle the situation. Tracey knew. She loaded up a plate full of food and gave it to the woman at no charge.  The grateful woman walked away with food that might have fed her for a day or two.  I like to think that.

It was a long Saturday night and Tracey and I were tasked with putting the deserts away.  We had to carry them down narrow steps to the refrigerators.  We made many trips up and down.  Suddenly on the way down, I dropped a full tray of tiramisu on Tracey’s feet.  We could not stop laughing.  We made a ruckus and Antonio told us to clean it up.  We couldn’t move we were laughing so hard. Tracey said she could feel the tiramisu  between her toes, and that made us laugh even harder.  We laughed till we cried and then some.

Tracey had one eligible beaux after another.  She went to a fortune teller was told that she would meet her husband on Christmas.  She did.  She married him and had one of the most fun weddings I’ve ever been to. She now lives back in Virginia and has a successful life.

I’ll always remember Tracey’s lesson in kindness.  And the tiramisu.