Whoops!

So it's approximately 7:30 and I'm sitting in the reservations office at work, pretty bored, when I get a phone call. A man with a bad connection and a foreign accent says, "Hi, I'd like to make a reservation for two guests tonight, please."
"Sure," I reply. "What time were you looking for?"
"9:30... It's for a chef at Per Se," he answers. Now, our last booked reservation is at 8:30, but we're technically serving until 10:00 and Per Se is a nice restaurant (and one that we have a good relationship with), so I tell the man I'm happy to take the reservation and ask for his name.
"Thomas," he tells me.
"And his last name?"
"Keller. K-E-L-L-E-R." At least that's what I hear.
"Oh, okay, I didn't realize it was the executive chef." Thomas Keller is possibly the biggest name in American restaurants, if not the world, excluding the people who are famous for having TV shows. Among people who know food, he's the man.

The guy, who I assume is an assistant of his, ignores that comment and we finish making the reservation. I get off the phone as my manager walks into the office.
"Hey Laura, guess who's coming in tonight at 9:30?" I say.
"Who?"
"Thomas Keller."
"No way. Really?" And like that, the restaurant goes code red.

Another manager comes in to ask me if it's a joke. A chef comes in to ask if I'm serious. The entire restaurant starts asking some important questions. Why would Thomas Keller come in to what will be an empty restaurant on a Sunday night? Why would he want to dine on a night when our executive chef isn't in the kitchen? Nobody has good answers. Whatever, though. My shift is over and I've been there since 9 A.M. and I just want to go home.

At about 10 P.M. I get a call from my manager. Apparently, the guest is not Thomas Keller, but a low-level chef at Per Se named Thomas Sellers. With an S. Also, chef had come in to cook for Mr. Keller. Chef who is not known for his even temperament. I am officially terrified to go back to work. Maybe by Wednesday he'll have forgotten?