It’s finally here. My taco shop is opening Tuesday. You will be able to buy upscale “street” tacos and margaritas, and oh, beer. A bunch of different beers.
Personally, I have no knowledge of what a “street” taco is. I was shown the menu, and I still have no idea why they are called street tacos. The tacos should be called “patio” tacos or “table” tacos.
The menu looks fabulous, well, at least it will to you. To me, most of the items on the menu contained onions. I am terrified of onions, especially the (construction language) red ones. Hey, Superman had kryptonite, I have onions.
Don’t tell me just eat around the onions, I know the onions have been in there touching the rest of the real food.
Wow, where did that come from? The taco shop will have tables spaced far enough that no one can reach you as they cough or sneeze. The staff will be wearing masks so you cannot tell how handsome, pretty or not either one; the staff is.
Try not to notice some of the “fancy” lighting has not been installed. Between the architect, the lighting supplier, the electrician, and Monner; not all of the lights have arrived. It really has nothing to do with me, but I get the blame anyway, so there you go!
Anyway, go check them out. They have been stung really hard by the beervirus. This restaurant (as well as all restaurants) could use your support.
If you are wondering what kind of restaurant I will be building next, I will not be building a restaurant at all. I will be building an office building for the government. I have built things for the government before, but not this particular part of the government. One thing about building restaurants, I have only the owner (well, maybe his wife) to answer to.
With the government, I have one point of contact. I will have as many as twenty people, representing the government with a say in the project, but only one point of contact. Let me tell you how that works.
Friday, I was having my men construct safety fence around the project. As many as six government employees were watching the fence being built. Five hours after the fence was finished, my point of contact and one of the six men that had been watching the fence construction came into my office trailer.
Point of Contact: Monner, can we talk to you?
Me: Sure, what’s up?
P of C: This is _____ of the _______ department. He is going to need you to move the fence.
I looked over at_______, and he’s giving me the “stink” eye. I’ve worked with the government before, and _______ is expecting me to argue. (Which normally, I have no problem doing.) I couldn’t bring myself to start the battle.
Me: Where do you want the fence?
Stink eye: My trucks need that space. (Still giving me the stink eye.) I saw you building the fence where my trucks need to be..
Me: Yeah, I saw you watching us. (I was starting to feel a little stinky myself) Just show me where you want the fence.
I could have started moving the fence immediately; however, it was 2:30 on a Friday afternoon. (Construction language) Stink eye! I’ll move it next week. The battle begins.
Speaking of battles. Please don’t think the problems small businesses have are over. They are still struggling.
Very soon landlords will be forced to raise the rents again. (Not to mention, some people think it is appropriate to throw bricks through small businesses windows. Wow, did I say that?)
Try to understand
1. People buy from small business
2. Small business pay taxes
3 .Taxes pay Stink eye’s salary.
Everyone is a winner!
Buy yarn, more yarn. Bless you!
Our crazy lives!