Free Concierge Confidential by Michael Fazio

for a table for six people right away,” Frank said. “You shouldn’t do that. That was stupid.”
    It was obvious in retrospect but I hadn’t even realized it. “I’m sorry. I’m new to the city.”
    â€œIt doesn’t matter,” Frank said. “It’s like that everywhere. You probably didn’t think we were that popular because we don’t have a sign out front, either. But that’s the biggest clue that a place is usually packed.”
    I sipped my wine, and nodded. Frank clearly knew what he was talking about; he was speaking from years of experience. “I totally get what you’re saying,” I told him.
    â€œLet me tell you a little bit about how the restaurant business works.”
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    HOW TO GET A TABLE
    A misconception people have is that restaurants are holding tables. They aren’t. In fact, restaurants have (just like airlines) a virtual overbooking policy where there are more reservations than there are tables. With most of the better restaurants, you have to reconfirm your reservations. If you don’t do so by the day before, they’ll scrap your reservation.
    Overbooking is quite a science, where the benefits outweigh the risks. The restaurateurs have it figured out: how many are typically no-shows as well as how long it takes for the appetizers, the drinks, and the whole thing—down to fifteen-minute increments. Some take things to the next level. RA Sushi on the Las Vegas strip overbooks to help ensure buzz and a sense of urgency. Style-makers and hipsters love intensity and drama, so a little bottleneck at the hostess’s podium helps maintain the sense that you are in the “right” place.
    Restaurants also have customer databases. If you’re a really generous spender, or a big tipper, or a major pain in the ass, or sends things back, that’s noted in the database. This works to a returning customer’s advantage— if you’re acting correctly. Instead of calling and asking for a table for Saturday night at 8:00, you can ask the hostess to look up someone’s name. If the establishment likes that person—and they might tell you so if asked—then it’s much easier to get a table.
    Nine o’clock is the hardest time to get, then 8:00. Then it jumps to 7:15 and after that it’s 10:15. In terms of size of party, it’s hard to get twelve but it’s not hard to get four. Just think of the logic. How many tables does a restaurant have that it can accommodate two people? Four? Six? Ironically, a reservation for four is usually easier than one for a couple. Most people go on dates, just two for dinner—leaving the establishment with more four-tops to fill.
    Now, there’s a wrong way and a right way to get a table. Tippee, the infamous hostess from Sen in Sag Harbor, taught me a very valuable technique to use when confronted with a mob scene and a mile-long wait. Never speak to the hostess at the podium. If you check in at the podium with the masses, you are visible and everyone keeping track will know exactly when you came and who “should” be seated before you. You’re podium poison, and no one will feel safe doing you any favors. Even if you have to wait an extra few minutes, get the hostess’s attention when they are away from the podium. When you corner them, compliment them on how amazing they are at handling the crowd. This sets you apart from the mob.
    Let’s suppose you call Faustina, or any such “it” spot, and want the four-top. The hostess then looks in the database, and they’re probably all booked. If you’re just a regular inexperienced guy, it’s, “All right, thanks, never mind,” and you’re over.
    But let’s say you’re really good on the phone. “Four at nine o’clock.”
    â€œI’m sorry, we’re fully committed.”
    â€œOh, what’s your name