Friday, February 24, 2012

Breakfast

With the manager booked in for a stiff interview, Mine Host is having breakfast whilst pondering the matter.

Earlier that morning, a stroll past the Presidential Suite (where the manager's daughter is recalcitrantly well dug in) had revealed that the place looked "lived in".

What appeared to be mundane domestic laundry was drying on the balcony - not a good look for a premier accommodation property.

However Mine Host's eagle eye was drawn to the dominant item on the balcony. A well used weights bench. This is not something one would associate with a girl living alone. She is living with her boyfriend.

Inwardly seething at this, Mine Host strolls on. The forecourt of the outdoor bistro, carefully decorated with bamboo & the like in waist-high pots, is instead the domain of the boyfriend's work car, the decorative pot plants having been pushed roughly aside (probably with Mine Host's forklift).

This settles it. This business is being run for the benefit of the manager's family. No employee can take such liberties & expect to keep their job, or get a reference.

It is now just a matter of how to end the manager's tenure with the minimum of disruption.

In the middle of breakfast, Mine Host is startled to see the boyfriend, clad in Y-fronts & pyjama shirt, strolling into the restaurant - with one hand down "there" engaging in a good scratch. He ladles Two plates high with food, then strolls out, carrying the Two plates.

The morning staff didn't bat an eyelid. Clearly this is common practice. Oh boy, it just gets better & better!

Mine Host questions the girl in charge of the floor: Was there anybody who had breakfast this morning without paying?

Earenstly she shakes her head, oh no, everybody pays.
Mine Host gets her to confirm this by asking a second time. Yep, everybody who ate paid for it.

"That lout who came in before, the one who hadn't bothered to wash & acted like this restaurant is his personal pig-sty, did he pay?"

*silence*

"I don't know who you mean" (Her face is now going red)
"The fellow in his underwear, who took Two plates piled with food, he didn't pay, did he?"

*pause*

"... That was a staff meal...." (She affects confidence)

"It is not a staff meal. Staff meals, such as they may be, are strictly to not be taken away, furthermore staff meals are available only to staff. Whoever that fellow is, he isn't staff."

"....That is ....Paul" (I didn't think the human face could turn a colour redder than beetroot, but she is proving it can)
"Hmm, the question was: Did he pay?"
"Breakfast is part of his deal" (her confidence is faltering)
"What deal?"

(NB: There has only ever been one "deal": "No money = no drinkee/eatee"

"......Well.... he lives here...... with Maxine........."
"So he just comes in, dressed how he pleases, & carries away any food that catches his eye?"
"........It is part of his....... package deal" (She is now so red she is turning black)

This is enough. The interview with the Manager is going to be quite something.
The outcome of the interview isn't in doubt, only the amount of disruption that will be caused.

Mine Host is going to try for an orderly change of manager, we'll see how the interview pans out.

Oh brother, is the boyfriend onto a good thing. Living with a cute young girl, set up house for free in the Presidential Suite of a premier hotel, eating like a Lord for free in one of the best restaurants north of Sydney.

Oh brother, hasn't the manager booked themself in for the high jump!

7 comments:

JeffS said...

The ending nearly writes itself.

Nearly. I am interested in the details, of course.

Anonymous said...

You are having far too much fun with this.

I am so glad you are sharing it!

Mk50
Brisbane

missred said...

and the plot thickens! more, more! please

Skeeter said...

There is nothing so pleasant as the warm glow of righteous indignation. More for me too, please.

Pennie and David said...

You write so well, I love following your posts it's just like being a fly on the wall! Thanks Mine Host!

RebeccaH said...

Stick to your guns and throw that whole useless lot out. I hate leeches.

kae said...

Onya.

Keep talking, we are a curious lot!