04-02-2021, 02:55 PM
(This post was last modified: 04-02-2021, 02:58 PM by Llewellyn Longass.)
Llew had this gift that whenever someone didn’t like something, he knew about it. Whether it was an instantaneous bad face or a wrinkle of the forehead, or any little thing, he knew. That’s what made him so good with customer service. Okay, well customer service inasmuch as making sure your customer enjoys his food and/or drink. Not necessarily manners. His rapport with the cook was his rapport with the cook. He thought it gave the Duckless Rooster its character. But he knew the customer in front of him didn’t like the drink. There’s was something to him.
“Slow drinker?” He repeated the remark. There you are, see. Tell tale sign he doesn’t like it. “My good man, I know you asked for a local drink and all, but I can’t be sure you’ll likem. So why don’t you tell me what you know you will like that we have and I’ll give you that on the house, shall I? Anythi-any ale you like.” If the guy refused, so be it. But you can’t say Llew didn’t try to make amends for giving him an ale he didn’t like. But somehow he felt like he might tell people the Duckless Rooster was no good. He didn’t need the bad talk. No indeed. Businesses succeeded with good talk. Bad talk killed businesses. Look at the Blind Sergeant. No doubt bad talk killed it stone cold dead.
He also decided he would make it up to the gentleman another way also. But what he needed right now was the goddamned food.
“Oi! You!” Came a screech from behind the kitchen door, now open with two hands holding beautiful golden fish and chips on a large platter. Even Llew became hungry just looking at it. The fish was battered beautifully and was one of the largest pieces, he knew that! There was also lemon and a round bowl of tartar sauce. Llew took the platter with a huge grin on his face and happily put it before his customer. There you are sir! I’m sure you’ll enjoy it. Would you like ketchup or vinegar for your fries?”
“OI!” Again the screech. Two hands held out: one held ketchup, the other vinegar. As soon as Llew took them and put them on the bar, “OI” And another hand held out a glass of mayonnaise. Llew took it and put it on the bar before the gentleman. Hopefully his culinary needs would be taken care of no matter what he might like with his chips. If the stupid sod didn’t like the ale, at least the blighter would like the food! Llew thought, or he’d have to cut his tongue out.
“Slow drinker?” He repeated the remark. There you are, see. Tell tale sign he doesn’t like it. “My good man, I know you asked for a local drink and all, but I can’t be sure you’ll likem. So why don’t you tell me what you know you will like that we have and I’ll give you that on the house, shall I? Anythi-any ale you like.” If the guy refused, so be it. But you can’t say Llew didn’t try to make amends for giving him an ale he didn’t like. But somehow he felt like he might tell people the Duckless Rooster was no good. He didn’t need the bad talk. No indeed. Businesses succeeded with good talk. Bad talk killed businesses. Look at the Blind Sergeant. No doubt bad talk killed it stone cold dead.
He also decided he would make it up to the gentleman another way also. But what he needed right now was the goddamned food.
“Oi! You!” Came a screech from behind the kitchen door, now open with two hands holding beautiful golden fish and chips on a large platter. Even Llew became hungry just looking at it. The fish was battered beautifully and was one of the largest pieces, he knew that! There was also lemon and a round bowl of tartar sauce. Llew took the platter with a huge grin on his face and happily put it before his customer. There you are sir! I’m sure you’ll enjoy it. Would you like ketchup or vinegar for your fries?”
“OI!” Again the screech. Two hands held out: one held ketchup, the other vinegar. As soon as Llew took them and put them on the bar, “OI” And another hand held out a glass of mayonnaise. Llew took it and put it on the bar before the gentleman. Hopefully his culinary needs would be taken care of no matter what he might like with his chips. If the stupid sod didn’t like the ale, at least the blighter would like the food! Llew thought, or he’d have to cut his tongue out.
