"Buddy's"

Now, that's not the name of the restaurant that I'm going to talk about (As a matter of fact, it's the name of one of my favorite pizza places in Michigan.) But, I can't exactly call it by it's real name. It's a synonym, along with 'comrade' or 'pal', only in Italian. Nuff said. I don't wanna be sued. This is a small city, and I don't want anyone Googling and bringing up this blog and detective-ing. But, this is one "Don't do it this way!" post that needs writing. It's textbook. It's common sense. It's obvious. Everything the owners don't understand.

This first started about a year ago. There was a building not far from where I work and live that started getting renovated. In a city this small, everyone notices and starts to ruminate on what it could be. A few months later, a neon sign is put on the front saying "Buddy's Restaurant and Pizzeria". Well, that's new! One of the obvious things we've been missing on this side of town is an Italian restaurant and everyone is excited. (Oh, how I miss the great Italian places in Michigan and Massachusetts!) We send out one of our salespersons, as we always do when a new place is announced, and the word comes back. "These guys don't know what they're doing". They don't know when they will open. No date. Nothing. Hello! If you're going to open a restaurant, shouldn't you have a goal in mind? Some plan or something?

Our salesman says that they're ordering their own furniture online and getting used equipment online also. So, not so much business for us. But, you never know. We've picked up the pieces before when other restaurants try to go it alone. Many chains and not-chains have come to us at the last moment when their original supplier can't come through. When their "Ed Don" or "Wasserstrom" or whoever back-orders items that you need to open, they come to us.

Well, after a year, these folks are finally ready to get serious. There's a couple we'll call "She-pants" (SP) and "Whipped-down husband" (WDH). They are joined by SP's brother "Jersey Shore" (JS), the "Head Chef" (I just love it when newbies call their pizza guy 'Head Chef''). JS is the first to come struttin into the store about 3 weeks ago. "Yo, yo, yo, we need a buncha stuff!" "How much is dis?" "Youse godda be kiddin' me". "Youse killin' me!". Did I say he was from Jersey? He basically leaves with nothing, since, so sorry, we're not Wal-Mart. We don't carry Wal-Mart crap and we don't sell for their Wal-Mart crap prices. We have commercial restaurant quality things that you can't find at Wal-Mart, dude! If you want tissue-paper thick pizza pans for a buck, go elsewhere. Our customers expect things that will survive the abuse a $7/HR dishwasher will dish out.. If you want 50 cent plates, may I suggest the pottery place at the outlet mall that sells seconds? Or shop in Jersey where things "fall off the back of trucks accidentally".

Two weeks later, we are treated to JS's sister, "She-pants". Oh, my god! She's the type who will call a John "Johnny", a Sam "Sammy", and everyone else "Babe". Puerto-Rican/Italian/Jersey woman, (Think Theresa from Housewives of New Jersey) who somehow got the money together to start a restaurant. And took her husband, Whipped-down Husband" (WDH) along for the ride, whether he wants to or not. The first words out of her mouth were "We've got money to spend, so I want attention!' The other two at the desk looked at me and retreated. I was to be the sacrificial lamb, since I have the most patience amongst them.

*Gird loins and approach. * To Be Continued.