Part 104 Perfect 10

Roasted pineapple, an accountant and a landlord.

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Hiya, thanks for jumping back into our story. And by the way, Part 104 means that two years have just melted away.

Things were starting to feel a little different at the restaurant, in a good way that it is.

Ben had left, and initially, I felt a bit sad about this, almost a bit lonely. That sounds a bit daft, I was still in the kitchen with Skater Jane and Emma, but those two got on so well that I felt like an outsider.

But as the weeks went by, Emma changed. She had started out as this mildly posh girl who was a little on the prim side, but working side by side with Jane and myself was having an affect. No more talking about choccy chip cookies, hot chocolate or Lady Gaga. She didn’t even wince anymore if she nicked herself with a knife.

“Oh what a bastard, now I’ll have to stick a plaster and a glove on.”

She was chopping faster, she had learned how to sharpen her knife properly, she knew how to organise the fridge ready for service and she started wearing a Sharpie in her hair.

And if I asked, “How long for that roasted pineapple?”, without looking, Emma knew the answer.

“Three, minutes. See, how good am I?”

“Yea yea, you’re the best.”

But I was dragged away from the skills of Emma because my mobile was ringing in the office, which was unusual, because reception was bad down in the basement.

It was Howard, the accountant, so I tried calling back on the landline, but it was engaged.

A pic of crisps.

I ran upstairs and I could see that Donna was using the phone, she was having a most enjoyable conversation with the laundry company. Another crap laundry company.

So I took the mobile out to the back of the restaurant, to the area which we paid service charge for but weren’t allowed to use, and called Howard back.

It was a good call. Howard just wanted to let us know, that according to our figures, we were starting to improve. However, we already knew this because we could look at the tables in the restaurant and see people were sat at them. But it was nice to hear this from a numbers person.

But then he started talking about current liabilities, working capital and tax provisions, and I became bored.

Time to get back to the kitchen and listen to Emma and Skater Jane swearing like a pair of dockers.

If you reckon we deserve a coffee for writing this. That’s the button you need to hit.

But on the way, and because I had just spoken to Howard, I remembered that a cheque which we had sent to the landlord for the monthly rent payment, hadn’t been cashed. I ran back up stairs to mention it to Donna, but she was still on the phone to the laundry people.

I decided it would be best to phone the landlords office to make sure the cheque had arrived, didn’t want them thinking that we’d been dodging them.

I didn’t like speaking to them, they were intimidating, they made you feel like a little warm turdy which had landed on their mahogany desk. And the last time we had any dealings with them was about a year ago, when we told them we couldn’t pay the rent, and they allowed us to pay monthly instead of every three months.

It was back outside on the mobile phone, but I didn’t speak to the actual landlord, he was probably too busy to speak to scum like us these days.

Instead I was put through to the accounts department, “Hi it’s Andrew from Vanilla Black, quick question, did you receive a cheque for our monthly rent payment?”

Tappy tap tap on the computer.

“Mmmmmm, yes we’ve received that cheque. But tell me, why are you paying monthly, why not quarterly, like everyone else?”

See, see what I mean. This is what happens, once you start speaking to them, they attack you.

But fortunately, we had clearance from the actual landlord, he told us this was OK about a year ago, so I was quite smug.

“Ay yes, we had a meeting with our landlord and he said we could pay monthly instead of every three months. This was ages ago.”

But Mrs. Ruth-Less pulled out her ace card, “Yes, I can see that on your file, but that was for one month only.”

“Sorry, what?”

“Yes he gave clearance, but for one month. Then you were supposed to catch up and start paying three months rent up front, like all of our other tenants.”

This was scary, confusing and funny at the same time. We assumed that instead of paying three months up front we could pay one month up front, forever, we didn’t realise it was a one off. And we’d done it for a year and nobody had noticed. Brilliant.

So I took the telling off from Ruth-Less and ran back into the restaurant, dead chuffed at what had happened.

Donna was still on the phone to the laundry people so I told Skater Jane and Emma.

They thought it was hilarious, Jane gave a high five, “No Jane, we’re not doing that Jane.”

“Well piss off then mate.”

When Donna finally finished on the phone I told her the funny story, which she liked, but she was also too busy gnashing her teeth because of the laundry company.

“I hate these people, all they have to do is deliver the right amount of napkins, our napkins. How can they get it so wrong? We send them a hundred soiled napkins, they clean and press them, then send them back. There’s nothing else to it.”

I didn’t have the answer, but Tina Terminator knew exactly what was wrong with the laundry company. And as she walked past us, she told us.

“These people are stupid.”

“Anyway Donna, Howard called and he said that finally, our figures are starting to look better. Not our figures, the restaurant figures. Good eh?”

“Well yes it’s good, but I can see that, look at the diary for next week.”

I looked, and it was good, I mean, I didn’t add up any numbers, but there was a lot of writing in the diary, that was a good sign.

Then Donna added, “I’m going to have to advertise for another member of waiting staff, Tina and Sophia are great, but some nights we just can’t keep up.”

So I got back to the kitchen and carried on prepping with Jane and Emma, “Hey, I’m the rose between two thorns here aren’t I?”

A few days later and Donna had ran interviews and taken on a new front of house team member.

“What’s she like Donna?”

“Yea she’s canny, she’s from Canada originally, and she’s eager, she wants to learn lots about wine.”

Tina Terminator, was listening in, as always, “Don’t worry, I can teach her, I’m very good with wine.”

Then Donna took me to one side, out of Terminator range.

“The only thing about her is, I’m going to have a problem with the uniform.”

Now, the reason why this was a thing, is because we always supplied the shirt and apron for the team, and getting them the right size was a pain. The company which Donna used never had the right size, or they’d send the wrong size and then she would have to mess about returning them by post. It was a right chew on.

“But hang on Donna, I thought you bought a box full of different sizes so you would always have the right one for them.”

“Yes yes, but that’s not the problem. She tells me she’s a size 8, but she can’t be. I’m a 12 or 14 and she’s about my size. If I give her a size 8, she won’t get into it.”

“Eh, why does she think she’s a size 8 then?”

“No idea, but I can’t tell her that she isn’t. And if I hand her a 12 she’ll be offended.”

“It’s a tricky one, I can’t think of a way around it. Unless you just give her a 12 and hope she doesn’t look at the label.”

“Yea, that’s what I was hoping. But she’ll look eventually, like when she’s washing it, she’ll definitely see it then.”

We pondered for a few seconds.

“Hang on. That’s it. Yes, I won’t let her see the label, I’ll cut it out. Yes, I’ll cut a size 12 label out and tell her it’s a size 8.”

“That’s a brilliant idea Donna. She won’t be offended, and she’ll still believe that she’s a size 8.”

And that’s what Donna did. She took a couple of shirts, cut out the size 12 label, and handed them to the new girl.

Did it work? It certainly did. In fact, the same situation happened many times, and the same trick worked every time.

Right, thanks for reading this. Catch up next week and see what happens.

Andrew and Donna