Adam Orman on Hospitality and an Unbalanced Life

Adam Orman kicks off our latest series, “What Keeps Me Up at Night…”. This series is a space for operators to explore their deepest concerns and issues within our industry. Orman is the co-owner and general manager of L’Oca d’Oro, an Italian-inspired, sustainable neighborhood restaurant in Austin, Texas that pays One Fair Wage to all of their team members. Orman and his partner, Fiore Tedesco, are co-founders of      Good Work Austin, an independent hospitality association that provides support and resources to local small business owners interested in progressive benefits. He has testified before state and local governments in support of the industry, and you can find more of his writing here.

I started sleeping through the night, finally, about nine months into the pandemic. That was after I’d stopped eating gluten, which was causing constant heartburn and it was at its worst at 2am. I even started exercising (“to the point of exhaustion,” as my doctor said) and it finally became somewhat easier to roll over and go back to sleep in the middle of the night. 

I took the exercise option because the alternative was to cut out drinking, which, I was told, would also help me get a good night's sleep. But I wasn’t ready for that.

I was worried about keeping my business from closing, keeping my family healthy, keeping my kids interested in digital learning, and twenty-seven other things that I’ve blocked out. I was not ready to curb my alcohol consumption. So, I compromised.

Every night around 5:30pm, when I was ready to fix myself a cocktail, I would angrily put the glass back and go find weights and a yoga mat. I would annoy my kids by doing jumping jacks and curls and all manner of CrossFit madness behind the couch while they watched a show, their transition from virtual school into the land of the (mostly) living. Only after that, would Happy Hour begin.

RELATED: It's Too Much. We're Exhausted. Maybe This Will Help.

When both children went back to in-person school, I had to be out of the house with them by 7am. That’s when I decided to stop drinking on school nights.      

None of these lifestyle changes-- improving my diet, cutting out alcohol, exercising-- had occurred to me in 20 years of working in the restaurant industry. It was only when we shut down L’Oca d’Oro, the Italian restaurant I co-own in Austin, TX, for the pandemic that I was forced to live with myself.      

I always knew that my job was not conducive to a healthy family life but, now, I had an opportunity to resolve that.

I have been a server, bartender, manager, sommelier and owner of restaurants in New York, San Francisco and Austin since 1998 and I have gone through many of the ‘typical’ bad habits of restaurant workers. I have woken up, hungover, at 3pm and called in sick for a dinner shift, though that was a long time ago. I have referred to Tuesday as “my Friday”. I have worked fourteen days in a row before and after vacations so I wouldn’t “miss” any shifts. I have sneaked into my quiet, dark house and slipped into bed with my wife as if I was guilty of something for the majority of our relationship.  

When we opened L’Oca d’Oro in 2016, I relinquished most parenting duties because I was barely home during  the school week. My wife took on all those dinners, and all those bedtimes, and maintained a full-time job to support us, while I paid myself a half salary so as not to drain the new business. All I could offer was breakfast and driving the kids to school. I did both dutifully, no matter what time I had come in the night before. 

It worked, in that the kids got to school, but if even the smallest thing went awry, I was a madman. This new temper was surprising and unsettling. I was usually distracted, multi-tasking ineffectively, unpredictable and, generally, a horrible communicator when I wasn’t at work. The restaurant was getting all of my positivity and productivity. My family was getting an empty shell.  

In reality, I had been sleep deprived for years, but I didn’t know any better and I lacked the time, energy or will for self-reflection. I finally started therapy in the fall of 2019 after working with other local restaurants to set up subsidized counseling with a local clinic. My therapist would frequently say things like, “It sounds like you work really hard.” 

RELATED: Watch our Evolve Austin Digital Series Now!

But it’s not just me. We, as an industry, have always worked holidays, weekends and nights so the rest of the world can enjoy them. But as an owner, that pressure was compounded by guaranteeing our employees a living wage before tips, providing mental and physical health benefits and flexible schedules that would offset the stresses of the job.

During the pandemic, I continued to work hard, maybe harder than I’d ever worked.  We needed to figure out ways to safely provide jobs and create revenue to keep our business open.  We didn’t just pivot, we became a production facility, providing inexpensive meals for the city and local non-profits to distribute to Austin’s food insecure communities.

But now, my hard work was, more or less, a 9-5. Of course, the pandemic brought with it other complications but at least I was home. I was eating three meals a day. I was able to go to bed at 9pm or 10pm if I needed to wake up at 6am the next morning.      

The stress was still there but I was sacrificing somewhat less to deal with it.

I had a more regular schedule and I was being pulled in fewer directions because we were no longer meeting in person. I was now able to recognize that it was my diet giving me heartburn, not my life. Instead of passing out at 1am after a long day, and sleeping for only 5 hours all week, I did healthy things, like biking and basketball, to exhaust my body. I was with my kids during happy and relaxed times and also during      sad, tired, and hungry times.     

RELATED: The Lessons We've Learned from COVID-19

Of course, as a family that’s been in close proximity for the last 18 months, we’re not always as mindful as we could be of each other’s feelings, but we know, better than we did, what behaviors set us off. We can recognize some of the triggers before an explosion. There’s still occasional screaming, but at least no more sleep deprived out-of-body experiences.

What keeps me up at night, even with my more regular schedule, abstinence from alcohol, sugar and gluten, and my exercise regimen, is the damage that working nights inflicts on people in this industry. I suffered, my friends and colleagues suffered, and the combined lack of compensation and gratitude we receive for our efforts is devastating.

After a year away from the industry, people are realizing they don’t have to deal with it anymore. Our Chef de Cuisine left shortly after we re-opened, because he wanted to spend more time with his young child. Our Beverage Director will be leaving soon to spend more time with her kindergartner. Our lead bartender, a single mother, only works three days a week so she can be there for her two daughters. 

There are countless more stories like this. Stories of people leaving the industry to find a better work-life balance. But where does that leave us, as an industry?  Customers are always going to want to eat dinner at night and go out for drinks after that.

We have fought for a higher minimum wage for tipped employees since we opened L’Oca d’Oro in 2016. The restaurant provides some health benefits, paid sick leave, and the counseling subsidy. We are working with Good Work Austin and other local non-profits on a childcare resource for non-traditional hours. Why? Because we believe hospitality jobs need to look more like other industries. But even when these jobs become kinder and compensate equitably, they will still be hard on families.

I don’t know how this changes without policy changes that allow restaurants to do more for their employees, without charging more. Restaurant jobs should be good jobs. Bars and restaurants provide communication skills and the satisfaction of making guests happy that can’t be found at big box stores or driving for Uber. We need to value these jobs. We need to understand, and appreciate, the compromises and sacrifices that our frontline hospitality employees make every night and every morning.

The views and opinions expressed here are solely those of the author and do not necessarily represent those of Bar & Restaurant and its employees. 

Do you want to contribute to our 'What Keeps Me Up at Night...' series? Email [email protected]!

Follow us on Facebook and Instagram to stay up-to-date on the latest industry news.