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Treat People Well
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- Written by: Rod Boyle
- Category: Conversations
- Hits: 729
It seems like an easy enough thing, but they just don't get it. You talk to new waiters, they worry about every single tip, what they made, they think they deserve 20% every time, and you try to explain it to them, this isn't what they should be worried about, they should be worried about giving good service, "treat people well" I tell them, the rest will sort itself out, you're not going to win them all...
Still they check every single tip, complain about the bad tippers, it's an easy trap, disregard all the great and superlative tippers because you had a few people stiff you, if there's a philosophy to serving or hospitality it's not about the tips, not at all, it's just about treating people well.
The End of Days
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- Written by: Rod Boyle
- Category: Miscellany
- Hits: 1266
First proper day off in a while - by proper I mean day in which I can go off and about my own errands. Up early, coffee, wait for the sunrise, but the sun isn't rising, it's obscured by smoke, not a glimmer even, merely a uniform grey haze...
I set off...Nelson, write a couple of postcards, then to Salmo, the smoke, so thick you can smell it, everywhere the campfire smell, stop in Salmo, Firefly cafe, filled with refugees abandoning their vacations, I get a text from work, their hours are changing, business, these last few days, has driven over a cliff, and driving over the pass you can see - or not see - why....
Firecrews with their hoses and tubs of water set up on the shoulder, the road vanishing into the distance...
Up logging roads, I run into a couple of conservation officers, sidearms, kevlar vests, WTF? If ever there was anywhere that should be safe from police you'd think this was it...I was wrong.
Check a few places, but it's not a hot day for it, and everywhere there are hornets, buzzing, not as the drone of a single one, but as a hive, hundreds, swarming you, crawling up your sleeves, this is a dismal day...
The sun, out, barely, and disappearing, and out, and disappearing...
Then, finally, towards, Creston, then back towards the ferry. 9:00 PM, following a logging truck up the 3A, maybe 20 KM past Wynndel, the taillights blink around a corner, following them around I run into an impenetrable cloud of dust, brake, smoke, BAM!...
Getting out, the jeep at a standstill, dust still settling, logs all over the road, one through my passenger window, crushed my roof, looking for a sign of the truck off the road, did it overturn? Then, through the dust, the lights of the logging truck disappearing around another bend, back into my jeep, still runs, following it, blinking my headlights, trying to get his attention, about 6 KM up the road he finally pulls over, he's 2 trailers, the back one has tipped, lost it's load, completely...
He gets out, I show him my jeep, point to the rear trailer, it's sitting all off kilter, he doesn't get it, thought he blew a tire...
It's toast. I get his details, drive up to the Ferry, make the last one, get more than a few looks from the crew when boarding...
The alternative, wait for the police, tow to Creston, unload jeep, spend the night, source out a ride back towards Balfour, there's no alternative, now to deal with ICBC and see how they cover this, no sooner than I rave about something good - my 'ole jeep, than the Gods punish my attachment, the bumper, the hood, the roof and windshield, all crushed, but god-damn, the thing still runs, and if I could just punch out the windscreen I'd keep it as is but cops are cops and this is the proof, the last of signs telling me these are the end of days...
Who Wantz an X-Ray?
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- Written by: Rod Boyle
- Category: Found
- Hits: 811
Found this by the side of the road, in a "Free" Pile, it's rife with re-purposing possibilities...
Before I re-purpose it though I should probably try it out a bit first...I mean, look, it goes to 11! Past 11, to 12!! Imagine the superpowers I could possess, (if I don't already, carrying the thing to my jeep, weighs a ton, must be all the enriched Uranium or Plutonium); oh, boy, there will be some fun had here...
"Maybe don't do Quality Checks..."
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- Written by: Rod Boyle
- Category: Conversations
- Hits: 732
I'm telling Chubby Funster about how last year, there was a spell, the kitchen was getting a lot of complaints, and when I'd do the quality check the customers would either complain or just sort of "Meh" the food. And I brought this to the owner's son's attention, and he recommended that I don't do quality checks. That was his solution.
Chubby Funster's laughing, it's kind of unbelievable, anywhere but here...
And then we have a busy night, predictable, only 2 servers on the floor, 1 chef in the kitchen, table orders, waits, waits, waits, while the kitchen is crashing, it becomes apparent they won't be able to eat their meals before the ferry, they change it to go, the kitchen is still too backed up, they've already paid, credit card, Funster just refunds their money out of his wallet, cancels the order, there's no way they can get it and still make the ferry...
...Explaining it to the owner later, needing the void and wondering how to reconcile his cash, the owner asks if they had any drinks, "An Ice Tea" Chubby tells him, the owner explains they still have to pay for their Ice Tea, they got it, they drank it, no matter how badly we fuck up, fail to meet reasonable expectations, the customer always has to pay, and the Funster, he knows, I apologize, this is bullshit, complete, we're not in hospitality out here, we're terrorists towards every genial and friendly inclination, towards remedial common sense, and I know the Funster won't last, he's already got another job in town, and while it might not be better run it can't by any means be worse...
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