What Do You Do When You Work With People You Don’t Agree With?

Apparently, you take a deep breath, keep your mouth shut, and remind yourself that everybody works differently.

 

At least, that's what I'm telling myself.

 

Because this weekend tested me.

 

Actually, let me back up.

 

I've been working what feels like every single day for the last three weeks. I'm not sure I've had a full day off. Between catering gigs, bartending, cooking, working toward my real estate license, and trying to maintain some semblance of a normal life, I was already running on fumes.

 

So naturally, this was the perfect time for my patience to be tested.

 

When Your Plans Change at the Last Minute

 

I was supposed to be in Richmond next weekend for a golf tournament.

 

I was scheduled to bartend all weekend, and honestly? I was looking forward to it.

 

One of the things I told this catering company when I started was that I wanted to do more front-of-house work—bartending and serving specifically.

 

Don't get me wrong. I know I'm a damn good chef.

 

I've spent the majority of my career in kitchens. I know how to cook. I know how to run a kitchen. I know how to put out food when things are going sideways.

 

But that's exactly why I wanted to spend more time behind the bar and out front.

 

I want to exercise those muscles.

 

Because being a chef isn't just about knowing how to cook. If I eventually want to run my own business, I need to understand every side of the operation.

 

So when my plans for Richmond were changed at the last minute and I was told I'd be going back to the Eastern Shore next weekend to cook instead of bartending, let's just say I wasn't exactly doing cartwheels.

 

I was already tired.

 

I was already frustrated.

 

And now I was being sent somewhere completely different than what I had planned for.

 

But okay.

 

That's catering.

 

And I'm learning that catering has a funny way of reminding you that your plans don't matter nearly as much as you think they do.

 

Little did I know, I was going to need that lesson immediately.

 

Enter: The Event Chef

 

One of the things I actually really enjoy about this company is getting to work with people who have been doing this longer than I have.

 

There's an event chef I've been working with who has been training me, in a way, to eventually take over some of what he does.

 

And I absolutely love learning from him.

 

This man is in his 60s and, in my words, he's a gangster ninja.

 

He's everywhere.

 

Front.

 

Back.

 

Side.

 

Kitchen.

 

Service area.

 

If something needs to be done, he's already doing it.

 

He's teaching me the little things that don't necessarily come from a cookbook.

 

When you first arrive at an event:

 

Check your equipment.

 

Make sure everything works.

 

Make sure you have everything you need.

 

Figure out where everybody is supposed to be.

 

Make sure the timeline makes sense.

 

Know your stations.

 

Know your people.

 

Basically, don't just show up and start cooking.

 

Take control of the situation before the situation takes control of you.

 

That's the kind of experience I want to soak up.

 

Then there are the other lessons.

 

The ones nobody puts in the training manual.

 

Everybody Has Their Own Way of Working

 

There was one person this weekend who really tested my patience.

 

She wasn't particularly helpful, but she was very good at telling everyone else what needed to be done.

 

And that combination?

 

Whew.

 

That one is hard for me.

 

I've spent my entire career working around people who will stand there and give orders but won't actually jump in and help.

 

During plated service, she'd be saying things like:

 

"Chop chop. You're moving too slow. Speed it up."

 

Meanwhile, when there was actually something that needed to be done?

 

She wasn't exactly jumping in.

 

And that drives me absolutely insane.

 

Because my mentality has always been: if we're in the weeds, we're all in the weeds.

 

You don't stand on the sidelines yelling at people to move faster.

 

You grab a towel.

 

You grab a tray.

 

You start plating.

 

You wash something.

 

You carry something.

 

You do something.

 

That's how I've always worked.

 

So watching somebody operate differently definitely got under my skin.

 

And I had to remind myself:

 

Just because somebody doesn't work the way I work doesn't automatically mean they're doing everything wrong.

 

That doesn't mean I liked it.

 

But it did mean I needed to manage myself.

 

Because here's the thing about working with other people:

 

You can control your attitude.

 

You can control your work.

 

You can control whether you become part of the problem.

 

You cannot control somebody else's personality.

 

And apparently, this weekend, I needed that reminder.

 

Then Came Saturday

 

Saturday's event was heavy hors d'oeuvres.

 

There was a carving station, and I was responsible for pumping out the orders and keeping the food moving.

 

I was also working with a young woman who was relatively new to the catering side of this big umbrella company.

 

I was supposed to be training her.

 

Which meant I had to remind myself that she didn't know what I knew yet.

 

That part is important.

 

Because when you're experienced, it's easy to forget what it felt like to be new.

 

But there was one thing that was driving me absolutely crazy:

 

There was no sense of urgency.

 

None.

 

She could talk.

 

And talk.

 

And talk.

 

And talk.

 

Meanwhile, I'm looking at the clock thinking, Girl, we have things to do.

 

I'd tell her, "Okay, I need you to start bagging everything up and getting cleanup started."

 

And then ten minutes later, I'd look over and she'd be standing there talking to all of the servers.

 

Again.

 

Talking.

 

And I'm internally screaming.

 

But I didn't.

 

Because I'm supposed to be training her.

 

And if I'm going to be in a leadership position, I have to learn how to teach without losing my mind.

 

So I handled it.

 

I finished what needed to be finished.

 

I cleaned everything up.

 

I sent her home.

 

And I drove my tired self the hour back home.

 

By then, I was done.

 

But Sunday was coming.

 

Thursday Had Already Gotten Under My Skin

 

And as if the weekend itself wasn't enough, Thursday had already given me another little lesson in humility.

 

I'm still considered a baby chef in this company's eyes.

 

I recently went to work at their production facility and had to do what they call a stage—basically a working interview where you work for little or no pay to demonstrate that you know what you're doing.

 

And honestly?

 

It felt a little like a slap in the face.

 

I've worked with almost everybody there.

 

But there were a couple of people I hadn't worked with yet, including the executive chef and sous chef.

 

And let's just say...the way some people talk to other people when they think they know everything doesn't sit well with me.

 

Especially when they talk to people like they're stupid.

 

That grinds my gears.

 

So by the time Friday rolled around, I was already carrying a little irritation with me.

 

Which, in hindsight, probably didn't help my patience any.

 

Sunday: Finally, I'm Bartending!

 

Sunday was a quick turnaround.

 

And I was actually excited because I was going to be bartending.

 

Finally!

 

We were catering an appreciation event for a company, and I thought it would be a great opportunity to ask questions.

 

This company is actually connected to something else I'm working toward—real estate.

 

I wanted to learn about the company.

 

What they do.

 

How they operate.

 

What their culture is like.

 

And maybe, just maybe, whether it was somewhere I might want to work someday once I get through all the expenses involved with getting my real estate license.

 

Because nobody tells you how much money you need before you can even start making money.

 

Licensing fees.

 

Fingerprints.

 

Application fees.

 

Association fees.

 

MLS.

 

Lockboxes.

 

Brokerage fees.

 

And about seventeen other things nobody mentioned when they said, "You should get your real estate license!"

 

But that's a story for another blog.

 

Anyway...

 

Back to Sunday.

 

Then It Rained

 

All.

 

Day.

 

Long.

 

I'm talking rain from Saturday evening straight through Sunday.

 

And apparently, Mother Nature decided she wanted to participate in event planning.

 

A bunch of people didn't show up Saturday.

 

Then about three-quarters of the people expected Sunday didn't show up either.

 

So much for asking all those questions.

 

I didn't really get the opportunity to learn much about the company or talk to the people I was hoping to talk to.

 

But you know what?

 

That's catering.

 

And that's probably the biggest lesson I walked away with this weekend.

 

Don't Walk Into a Catering Event With Expectations

 

Seriously.

 

Don't.

 

You can have a timeline.

 

You can have a plan.

 

You can have the menu printed.

 

You can have every piece of equipment packed.

 

You can have the perfect staffing plan.

 

And then somebody doesn't show up.

 

Or somebody shows up late.

 

Or the weather changes.

 

Or the client changes something.

 

Or the chef gets moved to another event.

 

Or suddenly you're bartending instead of cooking.

 

Or cooking instead of bartending.

 

Or training somebody.

 

Or being trained yourself.

 

Or working with somebody who makes you want to pull your hair out.

 

And somehow...

 

The food still has to come out.

 

That's the job.

 

And honestly?

 

I think that's part of what I love about it.

 

Every event teaches me something.

 

Sometimes it's a cooking technique.

 

Sometimes it's logistics.

 

Sometimes it's leadership.

 

Sometimes it's patience.

 

And sometimes it's simply learning how to work alongside someone whose personality makes every ounce of your patience disappear.

 

This weekend reminded me that I'm still learning.

 

I'm learning how to be a better chef.

 

A better bartender.

 

A better teammate.

 

And eventually, hopefully, a better leader.

 

Because when I have my own catering company, I want to be the kind of person who doesn't just tell people what needs to happen.

 

I want to be the person already standing beside them saying:

 

"Alright. Let's get it done."

 

And maybe that's the real lesson.

 

You don't have to agree with everybody you work with.

 

You don't even have to like everybody you work with.

 

But you do have to figure out how to work together.

 

And sometimes, the biggest professional growth doesn't come from learning how to cook something new.

 

Sometimes it comes from learning when to speak...

 

When to listen...

 

When to teach...

 

When to let something go...

 

And when to just take a deep breath and say:

 

"It's catering. It'll be fine."

 

Now, if anybody is actually still reading blogs these days, let me know.

 

Seriously.

 

Leave me a comment and tell me what you want me to talk about next.

 

Because apparently, I have a lot of stories.