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Previously, on "Sweetbitter"...

Baby Jakey doesn't waste time.

- Fucked everyone. - Didn't fuck me.

- I'm going over to Sasha's. - I'll come with you.

Poor Tess. She's experimenting with Omar.

He's a little old for her.

There's something so predatory about it.

Don't you think?

Dear little taco boy, I did not take your shoes.

I do not steal from poor people.

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All right, boys, big night.

I need, uh, six more heads of romaine

for these salads.

Watch your flame.

They ordered another six bottles.

That's 400 bucks a bottle!

Just bring up the case.

These assholes aren't going anywhere.

Pad the check.

Thank you, Santos.

Two, four, six, eight, one,

two, four... I've never even held this much.

And?

Two... okay, this tip is $3,200.

What?

- That's insane. - A bottle of Tassin, Nicky.

- Coming up. - What did you order?

I need a lawyer.

What? Did something happen?

Oh, no, no.

- To go out with. - Oh.

Fucking bartenders. They're all the same.

I mean, great lay, but...

holes in their underwear and cash under the mattress.

Don't wake up before it's 3:00 p.m.

I didn't know that you and Jake were...

Over?

Yeah.

Hey, uh, Howard wants all Front of House

in the dining room.

"The guest comes first."

It is the prevailing philosophy of this industry,

and I have never agreed with it.

The guest...

is actually irrelevant.

They don't create the environment.

We do.

Which is why, at this restaurant,

our philosophy is to take care of each other.

However...

we still have some work to do.

Because here, there is

an unsettling disparity.

And I think it's time

that Front of House make a sacrifice.

A small one.

We are expanding the tip-out.

- What? - Beginning immediately,

the only non-salaried kitchen workers...

the dishwashers... will receive 5%

of the tip pool.

What does that mean?

Uh, apparently we're giving 5% of our tips to dish.

I think that's a very brave choice, Howard.

Thank you, Simone.

Have a good evening, everyone.

This sucks.

Okay.

They can't just take away 5% at the drop of a hat.

Just think of it as a tax.

It's socialism.

It's not socialism.

We do drink thousands of a dollars a week

in shift drinks.

This is ridiculous, I have a family.

5% of my yearly take means summer camp,

car payments.

Did you know about this?

I most certainly did not.

Howard's doing what?

White people up front sure are mad

about losing money.

- I hate losing money. - Exactly.

- Excuse me? - Tonight should be fun.

Why does Howard do this to me?

Excuse me?

Grab six champagne glasses, follow me.

Martin.

You're looking well.

I was hoping you'd be here, Simone.

- Hi, Greg. - Hi.

I was at, uh, Pete's Candy Store

in Williamsburg listening to a client's reading,

which was...

And this vision

of a young woman gets up.

This was maybe ten years ago?

And she reads this amazing piece

of surrealist fiction about a mermaid

who falls in love with a young boy.

And in the end...

the boy kills her.

- Where did you publish? - Oh, an obscure quarterly.

"The Sewanee Review."

Last time I was in, you were finishing up

a collection of those stories.

I am not even bringing any of you menus tonight.

We're gonna do a special tasting.

So, any allergies?

- Uh, no. - Great.

And some champagne is on its way.

Thank you.

I had no idea!

- Can I read it? - You absolutely cannot.

He seems really interested in your work.

He's interested in his own romantic vision

of a waiter with an undiscovered secret power,

mostly because it makes compelling theater

for his guests.

Do we have scallops tonight?

Could you seat us, please?

Jake.

Hey, Tommy.

I didn't know you ventured above 14th Street.

I'm not here to eat... real quick.

I got this basement thing tonight.

Bartender just fell out. You interested?

1,000 bucks, cash.

- Fuck yeah. - Awesome.

You got a pen?

Yeah.

Here's the info.

Who's that?

Nobody.

Invite her.

Not her thing.

Eh, see you, man.

Why is no one eating?

Uh, no one has any food.

I am never coming back here.

It's been a while.

Maybe we should order a drink.

Hello, excuse me?

Excuse me, is it going to be much longer?

- What are you doing? - They are dirty.

Oh, those are clean.

Taste dirty.

Fucking dishwashers getting paid more

but not doing their job.

Not good.

So, what do you think?

I think that you fixed Sasha.

No one's ever fixed.

And I meant Howard's new economic policy.

Oh.

Well, dishwashing sucks.

What do you think?

Howard wants to take 5% from the front?

Okay, people revolt,

and we take 5% of this martini.

Cheers.

Fire two steaks!

Medium and medium rare!

Let's go!

- Will. - Yeah?

Someone or something is slowing down service.

I assure you, I'm going to figure it out.

Go to the front.

Anyone with wine or champagne, top them off.

Be your charming self.

- Go. - On it.

I said salt on the side!

Fucking salad!

What the fuck is going on?

Is this fun for you? You think it's a game?

I know what you guys are doing.

- Nick, settle. - It's horseshit, Howard.

It's classic passive-worker resistance,

and it's them.

- Tess and Jake? - I don't know.

It's one of them.

I've seen this in Front of the House before.

No sense of consequences.

They don't care.

That means nothing to those spoiled babies.

All right, stay the course.

"Stay the course"?

Aye-aye, Captain.

Where's Simone?

What is happening in this restaurant right now?

My tables are starving to death.

Why are you looking at me like that?

You've been unhappy lately.

Me? You think this is me?

I would never mistreat a guest to prove a point.

I don't think the guest is irrelevant.

Nicky thinks it's Front of House.

Well, I don't always know what they're up to,

and to be honest,

I don't know what you're up to, but this is a debacle.

It's just a natural reaction to change,

but I need to squash it, now.

Go talk to them.

I'll investigate.

Around the world.

Manhattan Classic, Moscow Mule, Singapore Sling.

We're still doing this?

Oh.

What?

There's a party tonight.

Maybe you should come.

With you?

I'm working, but we can hang out.

So with you, but not really with you.

Could be fun.

We could have fun.

- I'm so sorry. - Sure.

Try not to dress like you're from Ohio.

What the fuck is that supposed to mean?

Hi, what are you doing?

Well, I'm the food runner, and there's no food.

- Thus... - Okay, good.

Uh, can we take a smoke break? I need your help.

Ladies.

Are your back waiter cronies holding up service?

Because I need food to come out of the kitchen right now.

Oh, my God, I wish I were that devious or invested.

Oh, you... you know

I don't even know how to do that.

Have you been drinking?

No.

Why...

- I need you. Locker room. - Why?

It's like a department store in here.

Don't you ever take anything home?

What's the vibe of the party?

Penthouse?

Basement?

Tunnel under a bridge?

Um, I don't know.

Jake just said to look hot.

Get out of there.

Ooh...

- I don't know if it's... - Yep.

Oh, okay.

Oh.

What kind of a fucking bra are you wearing?

A padded bra.

Take that off too.

Yeah, take it off.

You can't wear this dress with a padded bra.

- Come on. - Okay.

Yeah.

It's cute.

And your tits look great.

I don't know, Ari, it's kinda...

wait, it's barely...

It's thin.

I mean, your nipples love it.

Do they?

It's the air, you idiot.

Mine are so sensitive I'd go fucking crazy.

Sorry, when?

When they're touched,

or pinched, or clamped.

Sometimes just breathed on.

I can do it for you...

If you like right now.

I mean, I'm flattered,

but I believe the restaurant is in a state of emergency.

Here's your brassiere back.

Thanks.

Pardon me.

I love that scarf.

- I know I told you before. - Will.

Be right with you.

- Yeah? - Here.

Gift cards.

Give these to any reservations that are still coming in

when you tell them that we cannot seat them tonight.

- You got it. - Thank you.

All right, folks...

Hi.

Thank God.

- Enjoy. - Finally.

It looks great.

Excuse me?

Can we please have some forks?

Jake.

Forks.

One moment.

Excuse me?

Where the fuck are the fucking forks?

I've been asking the same question,

but nobody washes fast enough.

Shut up, Sasha!

Mr. Howard, look. No... no forks.

I put 400 forks into service on Monday.

They just disappeared?

Are you telling me that 70 pounds of sterling silver

has just evaporated?

Are people supposed to eat with their fucking hands?

- Howard. Howard... - No excuses.

You find them or you're fucking fired!

Howard, Howard.

The entire restaurant doesn't just come to a halt

because of forks, okay?

I think I know what's going on.

Let me handle it.

You go charm my soigné table.

Thank you.

Give me five, five, five!

Yes, yes, yes, yes!

- Sasha! - Yeah?

- What did you do? - Uh, nothing.

Where are the forks?

Maybe underneath the dishwashers' giant fucking wallets.

Howard think he can steal my money

and then I bend over, take it up my ass?

- Not this occasion, honey. - Tell me where the forks are.

- I don't know. - Sasha!

- I don't know. - Where are the forks?

- I don't know. - Sasha!

- I don't know. - Tell me where the forks are!

Tell me where the forks are!

Tiny but fucking strong.

- You leave me no choice. - Over there!

Nuts! Crazy bitch.

Thank you.

I hope you don't have herpes or something.

- Hi, there. - Hi.

Come talk to me for a sec.

- Sorry? - Come talk to me.

Fire two crab cakes!

How did you do it?

It was impressive, really.

Did you, um... did you forget the herbs on every plate?

Or maybe undercook everything by one degree?

I mean, that would force Scott to put every piece of meat

and fish back on the grill when he checked the temp.

Or... oh.

I bet you insisted all the seafood was bad.

Had to be thrown out, cleaned again.

I bet if I look downstairs in the garbage...

Five years.

I started here five fucking years ago.

- Mm-hmm. - As a dishwasher.

Working my ass off, making shit.

Worked up to prep cook, now line.

And now some fucking dishwasher is making more than me.

Manny, you have a 401k and health insurance.

And by law, you can't be tipped out.

There are 10,000 line cooks in this city

who want your job,

and not one of them would dare humiliate this restaurant

the way that you have done tonight.

Plates arrive on my table in three minutes.

Am I clear?

Good.

Wash these as fast as you can.

Pick up, pick up!

Pick up forever!

- Nice stunt you guys pulled. - Oh, not my stunt.

I don't get involved in restaurant politics.

Did you call me white earlier?

Nah.

I was calling you "privileged."

I'm sorry again about tonight.

It happens.

Thanks for picking up the check.

But listen, uh, I'm serious.

If you ever finish writing, hmm?

- You'll be my first call. - Okay.

Good night.

I think you're wrong.

I think he is interested in your writing.

That's why people work in restaurants, right?

Contacts like this.

You're very sweet.

But you will learn there is a line.

And while you may be invited to cross it,

the invitation is never real.

What's this one called?

This is...

water.

It's gonna be a long night.

Meet me in the alley in 30.

27.

27.

Santos.

I'm sorry.

Thank you, boys. Take care.

Hey, you wanted to see me?

When I add it all up...

our numbers will be off by thousands for tonight.

Okay, but it was the right thing to do.

Don't quote me, but it'll make a big difference to those guys,

and honestly, in a week no one will even notice it.

It'll just be part of the system.

I agree.

You know...

you did well tonight.

Most people don't know the difference

between force and finesse.

They grunt their way through crisis.

But I'm always watching for someone

who can do it with a certain style.

Thanks.

You don't fit in with your friends.

You know that, right?

I fit in.

No, you don't.

You're steady.

You clock in every day at exactly the same time,

within three minutes.

You're an adult.

How would you feel...

about training to be a manager?

- Seriously? - Seriously.

Night, gentlemen.

Good night.

Think on it.

We'll talk.

I will, for sure.

You know, I thought that the whole chaos thing

was just a part of your look, but you were right.

The workers did revolt.

I know a few things about a few things.

Stay close.

Wait.

Borrowed this from Ari.

Doesn't look like you.

I'm trying it out.

Forget your bra?

The air feels good.

I have to work.

Don't stop.

Not tonight.

Come on.

Not tonight.

Howard.

We need to end this.

I saved your ass tonight

because I would like to have peace.

You saved your own ass out of vanity.

- That is not true. - "Peace"?

You have been coming at me...

'Cause you are out of control.

Howard, I know you.

I know what you eat for family meal.

I know the route you take to walk home.

You have been wildly unpredictable,

disruptive.

I mean, this thing tonight?

I... I don't even know what to say.

I mean, tell me it's the position in Tokyo

and you're leaving.

Or it's a health scare, I don't know.

Are you having a midlife crisis?

No Tokyo.

My blood pressure is superb.

And I am hardly midlife.

Yeah, well, you are fucking a girl your daughter's age.

- That is over. - It shouldn't have started.

Look, I just need you to be you so I can be me.

That is how this restaurant works.

Do you know anything about kabuki?

Oh, my God. Seriously, Howard?

In kabuki, you never do a new version of a play.

So the actors have been performing, say, "Shunkan"

in exactly the same way for centuries,

and they will for all time.

Same gestures, same steps.

It's so traditional

that the actors actually take on the names

of the actors that came before them.

It is their individual interpretation of tradition

that makes them great.

What I am trying to do, Simone,

is expand my interpretation...

No.

No, you're not, Howard.

You are doing a completely different play.

Just keep your shit together here,

and you will have my support.

- Otherwise... - Otherwise what?

I will leave.

And where would you go, Simone?

Where would either of us go?

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