On Friday the owner got his new luxury car. Very nice. But hopes that it might put him in a slightly better mood were dashed when G accidentally overcharged a table the owner was sitting with, end of night the owner screaming at G at the top of his lungs in the back, he's trying to be quiet but it's still audible throughout the restaurant.
Saturday the new car is in the parking lot, a new rock-chip in the windshield, the owner's still in a foul mood. Arrive, set up, staff are muted, on eggshells, he's going to blow.
And during dinner he calls a staff meeting - "I have some things I want to say" and from here it escalates...
"If you don't a fucking want this fucking job....and I fucking don't want to see this....looks like we're robbing the customers.....fucking losers fucking shit"
Lunch is done, no one is eating, and he's fucking off his nut. Still on about the night before, various other things, I've been exempted from the diatribe, specifically and named as blameless, this to prevent me from walking out, but everyone else is guilty of running the business into the ground, loud and then screaming, looking at everyone in turn, naming the worst of our customers and telling us that we should be bending over backwards, forwards for them.
When he's done he storms out of the room. Staff sit quietly. M, who arrived drunk with an early start on St. Patrick's day, turns to look at me with a small, wry smile on his face...
"You know, when you chew ice like that in my ear it's really annoying...." .
***
The owner isn't done by a long shot, he still rants and screams in various of the corners of the restaurant, finding staff and screaming at them, the night is long, customers overhear and ask if someone is being fired, another if I like my job.
***
I'm telling the nephew about how if you catch a leprechaun you should never let it go, they'll do anything to escape, but you must hold onto them until they show you where to find the pot of gold. I'm implying, vaguely, specifically, that it might be worthwhile to grab M and demand the whereabouts of his pot of gold, the resemblance is uncanny. The nephew isn't getting it, someone explains in Italian what a leprechaun is, he has his "a-ha" moment and then tells me - "I hit one once with my truck, a 600 euro fine, they're so short, small, I couldn't see...."