In the third summer of the pandemic, almost no one stays at home.
Bathing lakes, restaurants and shops are full.
People want to enjoy life, go out, travel.
However, this often does not work out as planned.
Because lifeguards, waitresses and porters are missing, queues are as much a part of this summer as sunscreen.
Germany slowed down: a fifth fewer flights depart from Frankfurt Airport, you can't get to Crete from Allgäu Airport for weeks, a spa in the Black Forest and an ice cream parlor in Mainz are shortening their opening times, an outdoor pool in Wuppertal cannot welcome visitors, and a festival in Kaltenberg is taking place Canceled at short notice due to a lack of law enforcement officers.
The Munich ifo Institute reported at the beginning of August that every second company was affected by staff shortages;
in the service sector it was even 54 percent.
Leonie Feuerbach
Editor in Politics.
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Luke Fuhr
Editor in Politics.
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The problem is not new, but Corona has exacerbated it.
The industries that were not considered systemically important in the Corona crisis but contribute to the well-being of many - gastronomy, travel industry, hairdressers and fitness studios, swimming pools and discotheques - often pay their employees badly and did not prove to be crisis-proof in the pandemic.
At the height of the pandemic, people whose job is primarily to give others a good time could not switch to working from home.
For them, it was just short-time work – or a new job.
In addition, companies that were paralyzed during the pandemic hardly hired any new employees.
Now many companies are trying to catch up and compete with each other for applicants.
A sunny day in Munich, crowds of people are pushing along the Weinstrasse from Marienplatz, drinking Aperol Spritz on the terraces of the restaurants.
In the gourmet restaurant Pageou, a friendly waitress welcomes you and leads you to a table on the gallery of the large hall.
"Are you there for the interview?" - "No, I'm a journalist." - "What a pity!" Your boss Ali Güngörmüs comes along.
During the lockdown, he says, many had time to think about their lives.
About working hours in gastronomy and the value of free time.
Two cooks left him.
They now work in company canteens, earn less, but have evenings and weekends off.
Güngörmüs cannot understand that: "For me, our industry is the most beautiful in the world," he says.
“Others go to clubs and restaurants to celebrate and live.
Güngörmüs is currently missing three cooks and three waiters.
Nothing comes through the usual portals, the market has been swept empty.
"Where are these people?" he asks, hands up.
"It's a mystery to me." He has now turned on an agency that is looking for him.
So far without success.
Friends and acquaintances help out, he has employed two Ukrainian women, and the chef also serves the food now and then.
His employees no longer take vacations freely throughout the year, but all at the same time in certain weeks, when he then closes the restaurant.
All of this is not enough: since spring, the Pageou no longer offers lunch, and only opens its doors in the evening.
New employees make mistakes
When the time comes that day, Güngörmüs pulls a chef's jacket over his white T-shirt, which he wears with suit trousers and sneakers, and hurries to the entrance.
"Good evening!
It's nice that you're here,” he greets the guests with a handshake and leads them to their tables.
It is this kind of interaction that could no longer be afforded at noon.
Only those who look closely will notice that it is jerking: a temporary waiter is standing around in front of the swinging door that leads to the kitchen, an experienced waitress calls out “Attention” when the chef steps out and almost collides with the waiter.