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Behind The Pub Lunch

May 3rd, 2011 by admin

Wazzer is coming to terms with her promotion.

The bar/restaurant where she works is a large place on Cuba Street. At night, it was all about moving drinks, stopping fights, and forcing drunkards into taxis. Weekday daytimes is a different game. Bums are lured onto seats with lunches priced between ten to fifteen dollars, low enough to encourage them to have a drink or two into the bargain. With the ravishing, unseasonal weather today, they’re expecting a full house, especially at the outside tables.

Working days is a step up for Wazzer, but the wait staff are ambivalent about it. Instead of drinks and glasses, they have to deal with heavy plates and rushed diners asking if the aioli is gluten-free. As “the manager,” she is fielding many more complaints.

“You’ve got to take them seriously,” Nigel, the owner, warns her. “They’ll go back to their desks and cane us on DineOut.com if the chips are cold or someone forgets to put dressing on the side.” Involuntarily, Nigel leans out the doorway, not to smile at the sun, but to glare at a competitor’s street-side signboard, advertising rival ten-to-fifteen dollar lunches.

Nigel, she has learned, has a Cuba Street mortgage to pay, two stepchildren, and wrists still shadowed with mediocre inking even after laser tattoo removal. The wait staff rarely josh or play, because Nigel is around. She’s beginning to understand why the daytime position was available.

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