The Perpetual Olive Branch


As bar manager of my establishment I am responsible for ordering all products for the bar, from soda to scotch.  This includes all dry storage items such as bar fruit, juice, produce, etc.  A few months ago we switched to a new company that supplies our dry storage items.  On my day off I received a text message from one of my regular guests.

“You need to get new olives,” they said.  “These suck.”

We are talking about green queen stuffed olives that are MAYBE a fraction smaller than the ones they replaced.

“They are not new,” I replied.  “We switched to this brand a few months ago.”

“I know.  I thought it was a temporary change, that’s why I didn’t say anything.  But they’re AWFUL!”

“Ok,” I said via text.

“Since you seem to think that I have some say in the selecting, packing, and shipping of our olives, the next time I am out olive-picking in the south of Spain, I will make sure to keep in mind that you are not happy with our current selection.  Clearly on my day off I have nothing better to do with my time than to worry about how you are unhappy with your martini garnish.  Maybe if you didn’t drink them so quickly you wouldn’t need tapas to go with them, and therefore you wouldn’t give a shit about the size of your olives.  Just as I’m guessing by now you’ve figured out that I don’t give a shit either, especially when they’re just as good as the old ones and I’m getting them at half the price.  My next day off is Thursday in case you feel like texting me and bitching to me again.  Perhaps you are unhappy with the size of our lemon wedges,” I said via my mind.

Reason #12 why a bartender should never give their personal cell phone number to a guest.


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