Sometimes I like to sit by the window of the café and imagine what people have written into their will. Not in a weird way. Just like, taking a good, long, unflinching look and trying to imagine all of their earthly possessions in the form of writing.
Can’t help it. I have strong understanding of everything to do with Melbourne probate and now I have will-o-vision. Back when I did the job- as in, when I interned at a place for three weeks- I used to do the same thing with the clients who came into the office. Best thing there was that they’d actually go on to draft a will, and I’d know if I was right…which most of the time, I was. Definitely one of my better talents, although I was asked to leave after those three weeks because apparently I was making people feel ‘uncomfortable’. Never figured that one out. I’m pretty happy with my current career, though. Coffin-making is just rewarding in so many ways that people don’t realise.
I still think about wills a lot, though. I used to be in the industry, so I’m well aware of how important it is the leave all your earthly possessions in safe hands. Also, if you’re making a will, you should specify what kind of coffin you’d like, if that’s your thing. A lot of people don’t, and they end up getting something that’s pretty cheap and doesn’t really suit their personality. That’s also a service I offer: I can look at a person and tell you their exact coffin size and type. I don’t share it unless people ask- someone told me that wasn’t a good thing to do, especially to strangers in a café- but it’s pretty useful.
It’s come up a couple of times in here, though. People around the café who need to make a will, and don’t know a single place around Melbourne for estate planning strategies. I help out however I can, you know?
-Dev
So I recently came into possession of a ute.
I just LOVE seeing a place with some juicy potential, and this café is FULL of it. Seriously, just…full to the seams. It’s a lovely place and I told the owner myself. Slipped it on one of those cute little response cards and put it in the box. Still, it’s not like I’m going to leave it there. I’m an interior designer by trade, so I won’t stop until everything is
I came to this country to look for gold. I found a number of
A year or so in, and I’m pretty happy with how things are going! Just putting the finishing touches on the plans for the Christmas party, but I already have a bunch of RSVPs from regular café visitors and I’m wondering if we’re going to fit everyone in. Might have to clear the chairs and open up the space out the back. Ah well…at least this means that people do like the place.
I became a beautician for a reason: to make the world beautiful. I mostly deal in nails, so I’m not
Customer service tip: chat, but not TOO much. That’s especially applicable to me, because I’m baking goodies for the enjoyment of all café patrons, and I can’t be loitering around stuck in a conversation while my vol-au-vents are going from crispy and delicious to charred rubbish. It’s a waiting game, but also one of timing.
Don’t tell the wife, but I’m mostly here to watch sport. Yeah, people usually go to the pub for that, but if I come home smelling of alcohol than Bessie will have my hide. She absolutely hates it when I’m out drinking with the mates, even if I don’t do any drinking myself! Johnny’s has all the TV channels, there are a few tables free that face the screen and so he knows now that I’m there for one thing only. It’s shameful, I know. I keep having to tell Bessie that I’m meeting with clients, which isn’t even a real thing I do in my job.
This is where I come to recover. This café is my only sanctuary, or rather…it feels that way sometimes. Not that I hate my job or anything, but I DO need places to recharge. Children, seriously. Children are wonderful gifts who bring so much joy, and so, SO very much exhaustion. In some ways I think I have it even harder than parents, because I’m the one they call on when they want their kids to be entertained. Throw in the fact that apparently clowns are a dying breed and you have the perfect storm of feeling underappreciated and stressed out, every day.
I really like Johnny, don’t get me wrong, but his family is weird. Every time I come to the café, it’s like I’ve walked into a wacky sitcom where some foreign people who don’t understand Aussie culture try to run a business, and it ends in hilarious, episodic disaster every time. Johnny is the lovable everyman who gets along with everyone and has to defuse the situation, the cook is the matron who turns into a tyrant when people don’t do things her way, the shop assistant is the snarky, socially-active drama queen and…well, Johnny’s dad just keeps trying to chop down the trees out the front. He used to work for a