The restaurant industry is divided. Our interests and needs are pretty similar, but our politics vary widely and the choices we make can be drastically different. Restaurants have responded to the pandemic with such wide variance, and the mandates have been so different from state to state, that it抖阴ap difficult to see the big picture, even — perhaps especially — from the inside. There is no universal experience from any one restaurant owner except this: The stress and uncertainty are killing us, and our businesses are in jeopardy.
For our part, my husband and business partner, Obe Ariss, and I have felt like outliers ever since we opened our restaurant, The Preservery, in April 2016. We were in the minority of restaurant owners who supported the minimum wage increases in Denver; we have always operated under the core principle that everyone on our team deserves a living wage.
We did not favor keeping restaurants open during the initial shutdown last March. We never opposed the mandated restaurant restrictions such as masks, curfews and capacity limits. In fact, we set stricter rules than the guidelines put forth by the state. We even , for which all of us were trolled and harassed by Trump supporters online. When it comes to our beliefs, we are not strangers to being on the fringes.
We have operated continuously at whatever capacity was allowed since the pandemic began, and we鈥檝e learned a lot in that time.
After almost nine months, we鈥檝e found that if our team members follow the rules, wearing their masks at all times and keeping up a rigorous routine of hand-washing and glove-wearing, they stand far less chance of contributing to the spread of this virus.
On our tiny team of 11 souls, a total of three people contracted the virus through exposure outside of work. In all three instances, the team member was on-site working for two or three days before they learned of their exposure risk and quarantined. And in all three instances, not a single member of the team was infected by their coworker, despite sometimes working in close proximity.
Additionally, no one on our team has become sick as a result of exposure to our guests, and given Denver’s positivity rate it抖阴ap highly unlikely that we haven鈥檛 hosted multiple infected guests in our restaurant. One reason, we believe, is that team members are always masked; another factor in our relative success is that we ask our guests to put their masks on when the server is at their table. It抖阴ap an extra step that, at times, has been challenging to enforce, but for the most part we鈥檝e seen gratitude from our guests that we are concerned for their safety as well as our own.
In the beginning of this pandemic when we all knew far less about how the virus spreads, we willingly complied with shutdown orders despite the financial devastation that it caused our business. We agreed with the state of Colorado that a total shutdown was the best way to keep the public and ourselves safe.
But knowing what we know now, and having been through every level of operational adjustment — from 50% capacity to 25% capacity to outdoor-only to complete shutdown of dine-in services — it is difficult to rally behind the shutdown orders that are in place now.
There鈥檚 literally no way any business that was modeled around dine-in services can survive this way. We normally have a capacity of 76 guests indoors and 27 guests outside. But now we are operating with an outdoor capacity of about 20, including the extra outdoor tables we gained after getting a 鈥渟pecial extension” permit to use our courtyard area in addition to our patio. No one should be surprised that in freezing temperatures, even with a blazing heater nearby, most folks just don鈥檛 want to eat outside.
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But the most frustrating aspect of this outdoor-only 鈥渃ode red鈥� mode in which we are operating is the seemingly unscientific approach to the rules and guidelines that restaurants are expected to follow.
Our dining room is spacious and well-ventilated with lofty ceilings, yet other restaurants can seat parties inside tiny outdoor greenhouses that are effectively COVID hotboxes if you鈥檙e dining with somebody outside your household. We have large ceiling fans. We keep our doors and garage-style bar window open and tables are well over six feet apart, yet it抖阴ap somehow preferable to only allow seating inside an outdoor plastic tent with four walls as long as they open a couple flaps to let the air escape?
Fully enclosed outdoor structures have every potential to contribute to viral spread as much as indoor dining. Your highest risk for exposure when dining out is from your dining partner if they are from outside your household (that is, as long as the restaurant is following all social distancing protocols).
If the choice is between a wide-open, well-ventilated, socially distanced indoor dining room versus a tiny greenhouse, as a high-risk person who is effectively in the same household as my high-risk parents (because they take care of our toddler daughter who doesn鈥檛 understand social distancing), I would definitely choose the former instead of the latter: both from the perspective of a server as well as a guest.
Many owners don鈥檛 have the benefit of a lofty converted warehouse space housing their dining room, as we do, so 鈥渙utdoor” alternatives become the only choice. I don’t necessarily blame those who are utilizing igloos, tents and the like to expand their outdoor seating. They鈥檝e been sanctified by the government, so why would any of us assume that they might pose as great a risk to guests and restaurant workers as dining indoors?
At best they are a well-intentioned, expensive bandage on a gaping wound. But, at worst, they are a sober look at the ever-widening gap between poverty and wealth that is more visible during a pandemic. Folks can enjoy a meal that costs more than what the restaurant抖阴ap dishwasher makes in a week while housed in the warmth of a private yurt and just down the street, people without shelter languish in the cold.
It抖阴ap analogous to our divided industry that there is no one-size-fits-all solution to the pandemic problem that every restaurant in America faces. But I know that, even with a vaccine on the very near horizon, this problem isn鈥檛 going away as quickly as we want it to.
If we don鈥檛 figure out a way for businesses to safely operate, and a way to hold those who aren鈥檛 following the rules accountable, then the only ones left by the end of this are going to be the corporate chains and the wealthy restaurant groups who have enough money in reserves to cushion this financial catastrophe. The small, independent restaurants, especially those owned by women and BIPOC folks, are, as always, the most vulnerable. Who鈥檚 looking out for us?
Right now, it really feels as if the answer is nobody.
Whitney Ariss is co-owner of The Preservery.
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