We’re not particularly near the ocean, so it’s not often we get sailors in here. I imagine they have all their dock cafes and such, where they have low-priced food for lunch. Hmp
h.
But it’s not my place to judge. I mean, I WILL judge, silently, but it won’t get any further than that. Hopefully this fellow goes back and tells all his sailor friends, and they all come and get some REAL food from someone who actually knows how to cook. And yet, somehow I doubt it…honestly the effort I put into his panini, he’d BETTER come back, or else!
He talked a lot about his job, hence why I know. I had food items cooking in the kitchen, but it took me a good fifteen minutes just to serve his coffee because he had an opinion on the marine trailer repairs industry and how materials have been hard to find, and how not as many people are casually sailing as they used to, and how he thinks the entire sailing industry has reached a point where people’s priorities have changed and it’s just terrible. For some reason. Now, I don’t usually have a problem giving anyone some serious side-eye when they’re wasting my time, but Johnny said that I need to tone it down when I’m talking to the customers. Oh, so they can waste my time with impunity? Yep, that sounds fair. Customer service, seriously…
So here I was, smiling through my teeth at the grizzled guy drinking his coffee and talking like he’d just stepped out of the golden age of piracy. To be fair, I love the sea. I grew up near Lorne, even had a little boat of my own: the Moon Princess, because I was very young and didn’t know how to name things. Also, it never actually sailed; I just got in it and pretended it did. Not that I was adverse to actual sailing. It was always something I enjoyed, hence why I couldn’t help be interested in all this boat posturing. How annoying.
But food called, I excused myself and the grizzled sea captain eventually up and left. Made me wonder how all that stuff was going down at the docks in Melbourne, with the trailer repairs and the boat catches. I should take a day off and check out the docks…
-Sarla
I get a lot of compliments on the building. And to that, all I can say is…thanks! I did it myself!
I suppose this is a useful feature. I’m not here to drink coffee or relax, because I’m here for work. I’m a food inspector, and I don’t usually sign guestbooks but…it’s a rare time when I’m fairly pleased with what I’m seeing.
It’s times like this, when I’m really relaxed, that I think about the beach. I grew up in Port Douglas, which is a really tourist-heavy beach town, so I always felt just a little bit above the people who just came there on holiday. I knew every inch of the place, of course. Fortunately I’ve grown up a bit since then, and I can’t really feel superior since I moved all the way down to Melbourne for work. Reaping the consequences of that now that it’s winter…
Johnny called the painters in. I was rather shocked that he didn’t first consult me about it. He may be the owner but I’m the manager of this cafe, and there’s a reason for that. You can’t just call people in to do renos on the place without first making the relevant considerations. For example, you wouldn’t just go out and get yourself a wedding suit without first considering what the bridesmaids and groomsmen will be wearing, would you? No. As for redecorating and refurbishing a cafe, this is a delicate and complex operation. I mean, our business depends upon the happiness and adoration of our customers.
A guestbook seemed like a good idea, at first. I know, I’m probably laying it on a bit thick with all the ‘we’re new, tell us all about what we’re doing wrong!’ business, but I really wanted this to be a café of democracy. I have so many more related ideas…you wouldn’t believe how many I’m sitting on. But anyway, the guestbook seemed great until people stopped taking it seriously. Mostly the regulars, I might add, who I’m otherwise very fond of for all the business.