Remembering another Thanksgiving
1977
My boss informed me, the day before Thanksgiving, that he wanted to keep the bar open after all. Since I was the manager, I was expected to be there. He blithely told me I could do my celebrating a day or two late, then he left for his holiday at his beach house. My wait staff had overheard all this and were relieved when I told them that I wouldn’t be able to reach any of them to apprise them of their holiday work hours.
The next day, I’d just about finished the crossword in the Washington Post when the boss’s estranged wife showed up with a picnic basket full of turkey dinner with all the fixings. She’d already eaten, but she stayed and visited for a bit while I dined, her pretext being that she’d tend to any customers should any decide to stop in.
About an hour after she left one of my waitresses came in with a fully laden tray, turkey and cornbread stuffing and yams, and a slice of pumpkin pie. She couldn’t stay, she was concerned that her husband would let the kids eat nothing but pie. I took a quick nibble of that stuffing (it was soooo good!), and thanked her for her thoughtfulness; I scooted into the kitchen and wrapped the dinner in foil and stuck it in the fridge.
Back in the bar I got started on another crossword, and the door opened to reveal the brother of my other waitress. Yep, he had a tray full of dinner. He also had time to hang around and keep me company while I ate. So, I took as long as I could to eat as little as possible, savoring every bite of his mother’s cooking. Happily, he had a date and accepted my thanks along with my promise to wash the dishes before I returned them. I spent about an hour groaning with my head on the bar.
By the time I closed the bar I was feeling pretty darned good about the thoughtfulness of those people. Would I have rather spent the day at home? Yes, but then I would have missed out on those acts of caring.
As for my boss, he caught an earful from his wife and other business partners. Then, the week before Christmas he announced that there was a new pay schedule, so we wouldn’t get paid again until January. Panic ensued. His wife, bless her, came storming in and wrote each of us a personal check in the amount we’d estimated we were due. And when we got paid in January, she got every penny back. She respected us, thus earning the respect we accorded her.
Years later, long after I’d moved away, I learned that the corporate offices had relieved the boss of his franchises. Seems they didn’t care for his treating their finances the same way he treated his employees. Imagine that.
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