I said a while back that I had some local vignettes up my sleeve.
As a writer, I love watching the world go by, and sometimes am amused and entertained by observing how cafes and restaurants are run. My daughter owns Hive Barossa cafe and I often enjoy just sitting in a corner sipping my herbal tea and watching the place at work. It is a well run business with a heap of heart, wonderful ambience, great coffee and healthy food. I’m sure there is the odd hiccup and contrary customer but it is definitely a well-oiled machine and a much-loved establishment. Every person who walks through the door is greeted warmly, regulars by name.
I was on my way home from the Adelaide hills recently and called in to a cafe/bakery for some lunch. First thing I noticed was that it looked pretty bare. A couple of tables and seats outside, but no furniture inside. It wasn’t long ago, so nothing to do with Covid. No other customers in the shop. It was late for lunch – after 1.30. There was a young girl behind the counter waiting to serve me. A little to one side, around the corner but also behind the counter was a young man, and two girls in their mid to late teens – obviously also staff. The girls were leaning against the wall, the lad facing them. The teenage hormone stuff was palpable – both girls vying for the preferential approval of the handsome youth who was delighting in his situation of being strategically competed for. In the space of a few seconds before I got to the counter to order my pasty I smiled as I took in the whole picture – complete with hair-flicking, posturing and story-telling with all the ‘likes’ –
“‘Like I just went … seriously?’ and she went ‘Like I’m not kidding. Like it was so gross.'”
So I ordered my pasty. The conscientious girl put it in a bag, handed it to me, and I turned to leave the shop. She left her spot at the counter and headed towards the door to the adjoining bake-house. As I passed a display cabinet I spotted some divine-looking vanilla slices. ‘Oh wow’ I said and stopped there. She said ‘I know, right?’ and kept walking and disappeared. I wanted one. So I presumed one of the other kids would come to serve me. Wrong. They were so engrossed in each other that their brains wouldn’t process that I wanted something else. The whole three of them looked over at me. Still much leaning against walls and hair-flicking as they kept talking – all at once. I was amused to say the least, and stood there for another minute before one of them finally asked if she could help me. I wondered, as I drove home, if the owner (perhaps Mum or Dad of one of them) might have left the kids in charge that day. Fortunately for them I just saw the small episode as entertaining. Another customer might not have been so patient.
I was in a take-away restaurant the other evening. Hadn’t been there before. There was a couple about to sit down at a table outside. Another couple waiting for food at a table inside. A man standing near the counter waiting for his order, and me. The owner was in a terrible state. Sweating. Stressed. Obviously there was someone cooking and a young girl helping in the kitchen and also serving. Six meals ordered. Yes six. The tension amongst the staff was there for all to see. The young girl took my order, told me it would be twenty minutes, and disappeared into the kitchen. The owner came out of the kitchen a couple of minutes later and asked for my order! I told him I had already ordered. He uttered some expletive under his breath, threw up his hands, and broke out in new sweat. I shot a glance at the couple sitting at the table near me. The man rolled his eyes. ‘We’ve been waiting nearly half an hour,’ he sighed.
Then the girl came out with two meals, presented them to the couple at the table inside. ‘These aren’t our meals,’ they said. She turned and went back to the kitchen with them. Only one other couple waiting – outside! A minute later she emerged from the kitchen with the meals, now somewhat cooler, and delivered them to the outsiders. I could tell she was a victim of kitchen mayhem, on the verge of tears and obviously traumatised. The inside couple said to me ‘We ordered before they did’ – obviously over it, but very patient and too hungry to leave.
Again I was entertained, which would probably infuriate those under pressure if they knew. The hospitality industry can be a tough gig I know but … hmm … you come across all sorts.
I have still been thumbing through old writings – when I feel a need to calm my mind that gets a little overwrought with daily tasks at times. I thought some of you might appreciate this little poem I found in my cache – again written during my prolific seventies/eighties period.
YOUR TAXI SERVICE
Your taxi service must keep you on your toes
All those wealthy old ladies visiting the sick and lonely
The mothers whose little kids have messed their pants
and don’t wish to be seen by other messy kids in sailor suits and confidence
The bus drivers who long to be camel drivers
The camel drivers who long to be bike riders
The bike riders who long to be skin divers
The skin divers who long to be sky divers
The sky divers who long to be sky writers
The sky writers who long to be copy writers
and me
the girl who is always carrying soup and goodies to the other side of town
I am taking myself on a little beach holiday soon. I have had a lot of business stuff to undertake that has taken weeks and a lot of head space. I’ve finally ticked it all off of my ‘To Do’ list and now need to get away to clear my head.
If anyone feels inclined, you are welcome to send me a message in the Comments option below. The Analytics on my website tells me how many people read my blogs but I have no idea who you are. I would endeavour to reply to your comments which would remain unpublished, unless you wish otherwise.
To read more of my stories scroll down and click on ‘Previous’.
Will tell you about my beach holiday next time.
Warmly,
Sue