86, 88, and the Fear of Running Out

The phrase surfaced during a working session with a group of consulting managers, the way meaningful insights often do—without announcement or agenda.

We were talking through purchasing in practical terms: par levels, forecasting, what happens when demand doesn’t follow the spreadsheet. At one point, someone named it plainly—the fear of running out. Heads nodded around the table. Everyone understood exactly what that meant.

In restaurants, that fear is nearly universal. It shows up long before service begins. It influences ordering habits, storage decisions, even menu design. It’s why walk-ins end up fuller than they need to be, and why invoices quietly creep upward month after month.

The idea itself wasn’t new to me—it had already been living in my own thinking—but the conversation sharpened it. Rudy Miick, founder and president of Miick Companies LLC, captured the moment cleanly when he reframed it not as running out, but as selling out.

That distinction mattered. I gave it language of my own—88—a way to name the shift away from fear and toward confidence. Not excusing poor planning, but recognizing that, at the right moment, selling out can signal disciplined purchasing, accurate forecasting, and alignment between what was ordered and what guests actually wanted.

What “86” Really Means

In restaurant language, 86 is not neutral.

It doesn’t simply mean out of stock. It carries weight. It signals absence, disappointment, apology. It’s the word managers dread hearing in the middle of service and the word servers hate delivering to guests who have already decided.

And rightly so.

Being 86’d early or mid-service usually means something went wrong: forecasting missed, ordering misjudged, communication failed. Guests feel it. Teams feel it. Trust erodes.

That reality shouldn’t be softened.

But over time, something else happens. The fear of hearing “86” becomes so strong that it begins influencing behavior long before the doors open.

The Real Fear Isn’t Running Out

Most experienced operators aren’t afraid of being out of product.

They’re afraid of being exposed.

Of being questioned.

Of explaining themselves.

Of having to say, we miscalculated.

That fear doesn’t surface during service. It shows up at the ordering desk.

So pars get padded.

Orders get rounded up.

“Just in case” becomes policy.

The shelves look full. The walk-in feels safe. And quietly, profitability starts leaking out the back door.

The Far Greater Sin

Running out at the wrong time is a problem.

Ordering too much all the time is worse.

Excess inventory ties up cash. It forces decisions you wouldn’t otherwise make—specials designed to move product, compromises in quality, waste that gets normalized instead of addressed. It dulls urgency. It clouds clarity.

Worst of all, it hides the truth.

When shelves are always full, forecasting never improves. Demand never sharpens. The system never learns.

Fear-based ordering feels safe. It isn’t.

Timing Is Everything

This is where the distinction matters.

Running out during peak service is not acceptable. It disrupts the guest experience and signals a breakdown in planning.

Running out near the end of the shift, however, is different.

When it happens late—after most demand has been met, after the room has been served—it can mean something else entirely: accurate forecasting, disciplined purchasing, and alignment between what was ordered and what guests actually wanted.

Handled well, it can even change the tone at the table. A server explaining that an item has sold out doesn’t apologize—it signals popularity. The absence becomes information, not disappointment. What might have felt like scarcity instead reinforces that the kitchen paid attention.

That’s not failure.

That’s precision.

From 86 to 88

The suggestion to use 88 wasn’t about replacing one term with another.

It wasn’t about clever language or cultural novelty.

It was about mindset.

In many cultures, the number eight is associated with prosperity and things going well. 88 felt like the right counterbalance—not to excuse running out, but to reframe what success looks like when it happens at the right moment.

This isn’t language meant for guests. It isn’t signage or marketing. It’s internal—a way leaders talk to teams when the night is winding down and the data is clear.

Not we’re out.

But we sold out.

What Changes When the Fear Lifts

When teams stop panicking about the possibility of running out late, something subtle shifts.

Ordering conversations get sharper.

Forecasts improve.

Data becomes feedback instead of indictment.

Selling out becomes information, not drama.

The room relaxes. Leadership gets calmer. Confidence replaces anxiety.

You stop ordering to avoid discomfort and start ordering to meet demand.

Enough Is an Operational Skill

There’s a temptation to think of restraint as a culinary value.

It isn’t.

It’s a business discipline.

The best operators don’t chase abundance. They chase accuracy. They don’t try to please every hypothetical guest. They focus on serving the ones who actually walk through the door.

Knowing when you’ve ordered enough is as important as knowing what to order.

This isn’t about slogans or terminology.

It’s about how experienced leaders think when no one is watching.

The question isn’t, How do we make sure we never run out?

It’s:

How do we order so well that selling out—at the right moment—means we did our job?

That’s not fear.

That’s confidence.

And confidence is always quieter than panic.

This essay is part of Lessons from Table 8.

For professional correspondence, the author may be reached at wzane@intelhospitality.com.