Wednesday, March 18, 2015

Adios amigo



Last weekend we parted company with our barman, who has been with us since our rocky beginning six years ago. Through the winter he worked Fridays and Saturdays, but recently the bar had been quiet on Friday nights so mio marito had him come in on Saturdays only.

He was a high maintenance kind of guy so last week he handed in his notice saying once a week was just not worth it. He had tears in his eyes, he said, which we couldn’t verify because this was a phonecall. He ended by saying he would call in during the week to return the restaurant keys.

My husband turned to me and said: “Rubbish. He has a new job and I know exactly where.”

Fact is, the barman duly brought the keys back – when no one else was there. We only spotted them after noticing his cocktail mixers were gone. Now, aside from the fact that from our point of view he took the hint, it’s a shame our erstwhile resident diva didn’t have the balls to bid farewell in person. Especially since his new employment is so close (mio marito was spot on).

It was a case of “This joint ain’t big enough for the both of us”. Family members revealed he had complained that mio marito didn’t give him enough space (now even I know that you don’t slag a man off to his own family in Sicily). For example, why had my husband not bought him that special aged Vodka that cost €40? Now with unemployment here at over 40%, not too many punters would have been drinking that special vodka. And speaking of Vodka, our former barman loved dealing out free shots to his pals, so it looks like we’re going to be saving more than just his salary. We have it on pretty good authority that his new employers will not look too kindly on free shots; apparently he was working up quite a sweat last Saturday night.

Hell, I learnt a lot from him. I remember clearly apprehending his expectations of me, which could largely be translated onto the rest of the staff at the time. On opening day he told me there was a leak behind the bar, which I appreciated, as joint manager with mio marito. But he wasn’t simply informing me of that inconvenience, he just wanted me to mop up.

If only I'd learnt how to make more cocktails.

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