Every week, (specifically Monday mornings) I used to count all the liquor, wine and beer in my restaurant. I would physically count all the inventory and then input the numbers into the computer. The computer program was simple. It knew the previous weeks inventory. I told the computer what I bought. I would then input what I had each Monday. Also, each time a drink was ordered (throughout the week) the cocktail server or bartender would ring in each drink, in our computer. So, at the week end, the computer knew what our beginning inventory was, what we purchased, what the ending inventory was AND all the drinks that were purchased throughout the week. In theory, I could track every ounce of alcohol that came in or left the restaurant. It worked well. Too well. So well, in fact, that bartenders and cocktail servers had to go through great lengths to steal a drink.
I used to drink Goldschlager. It was a cinnamon type of schnapps. A thick, syrupy beverage that not too many people drank. As a matter of fact, I was almost the only person in the restaurant that drank it. Guests included. So when one particular week when we were missing a bottle of it, i grew concerned. I asked my primary bartender if anybody had been drinking it last week. Nobody but me had drank any. I asked the bartenders if they had been ringing in my end of shift drinks. The answer was yes.
I went into the office to print up the sales report and it indeed showed that my drinks had been rung up. I grew concerned. It could look like I was stealing drinks. This was rediculous. I could have as much booze as I wanted at the end of my shifts. There was absolutely no reason for me to steal booze. I had to get to the bottom of what was happening before my boss started sniffing around. He knew I drank goldschlager. But he knew I wasn't a thief or an on the clock drinker. So I set about trapping the person that was stealing the goldschlager.
Once I had counted the liqour and entered the numbers into the computer, my number one bartender would review the numbers and call an order to the liquor store. I had recently given the bartender the job of calling in the order. He wanted more responsibility. I wanted to do less tedious work, so it seemed an even trade. As I had been doing the order for years, I knew the owner of the liquor store. I called him and told him to keep an eye out for anything suspicious. He agreed.
The following week, we were missing a fifth and a half of goldschlager. When I asked the cocktail staff and bartenders, they had no answers. I got frustrated. I began pointing my fingers at different bartenders. I was mad. What if my boss found out. Was somebody trying to get me fired? I then told the bar staff that I would start to ring in my own drinks. I called the owner of the liquor store and nothing out of the ordinary.
The following week week, we grew two fifths of goldschlager. NOW I KNEW SOMETHING WAS UP. I had counted the bottles over and over again. When I asked the bartender why we had grown goldschlager, he gave a silly story of buying some goldschlager by the liter. I listened to him as he spun a story of the growing goldschlager bottles. It made my ears hurt. He was obviously lying. I quickly called the owner of the liquor store. I asked if there was anything fishy going on. This time he said yes. He told me that the bartender had come in on a Friday, before his shift, and bought a bottle of goldschlager and another bottle of booze and paid for it out of his wallet. I NOW HAD HIM. We only paid for the liquor with checks. He was covering his own losses. I just had to get the story out of him.
I called my boss and told him what had been happening. I told him I was going to confront my bartender. He asked if he could sit in on this. I agreed.
When my bartender came in the next day. I told him what I had found out from the liquor store owner. I asked him what he had to say for himself.
I will never forget the next 10 seconds. Ever. Without batting an eye. Without flinching. Without swollowing nervously, he looked me dead in the eye and said, "I've been coming into work high on cocaine. I needed the goldschlager to even me out. You know...coke is a stimulant and booze is a depressant. I've been going into the liquor closed with a coffee mug and drinking goldschlager to mellow me out. I figured since you were the only one that drank goldschlager, it would be less likely that someone would find out."
When I told him he was fired, he blinked twice and said, "...but I told you the truth. You can't fire me."
I did fire him that day
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