“I do believe this is our third attempt at perfecting your meal, and I hope it is to your satisfaction. However, if it is not, my sincerest apologies to you. Perhaps, in that case, you would do me the humble honor of teaching our chef the proper method of cooking meat! Trudy?" I called out to a server. "Fetch Pierre for me, would you?"
In a minute, Pierre shuffled out from the kitchen, his face a ruddy red. He gave the customer a death stare.
"Now, I have just told our esteemed guest that if he still has a problem with our cooking, he will demonstrate how to fire a steak in front of everyone! We have the open kitchen working, yes?"
He nodded brusquely. "We do."
The gentleman had turned a very odd shade of purple. "What is the meaning of this? D'you know who I am? One review from me and you would—"
"But sir, how could you fault us for wanting to learn from you?"
He turned an ugly shade of purple like his pinstriped shirt was far too tight for him. He cut into the steak and gave a curt nod. "It is great. Thanks."
"The pleasure is all ours, sir!"
Turning around, I placed a firm hand on Pierre's shoulder. This was partly to stop him from picking up the steak knife and poking a hole in the gentleman's eye.
"It has been handled, Pierre. We do not need to waste more expensive beef or our time on this sad excuse for a human. Come."
"He is a bad man," Pierre grumbled.
"And you arewicked smaht," I replied, resorting back to my South Boston way of talking for a second. "You're the best we have, Pierre. Don't let the idiots bring you down."
In this industry, you could never get ahead if you weren't thinking on your feet. This brought me back to the issue with our supplier—it had been going on for a while now.
It went back to two months ago. Our best friend Niall, who was also the operations manager, walked into my office which was a floor above the restaurant. He had a concerned look on his face.
"Aiden, we need to talk about this new supplier. I've heard some unsettling rumors," he said, taking a seat across from me.
I sighed, running a hand through my hair. "I know, Niall. That's why I've been knee-deep in research. It turns out they have a history of deceptive practices and subpar product quality."
Niall's brows furrowed. "Damn, we can't afford to compromise on quality. Our customers trust us to deliver the best. What's our plan?"
"We need to confront the supplier and negotiate a fair agreement," I replied, determined. "I won't let them manipulate us with hidden fees and unfavorable terms."
A few days later, I found myself in a sleek conference room, face-to-face with the supplier's representative, Mr. Rossi.
He exuded confidence, but it was a cunning kind of ease.
Y'know that feeling you get in your balls when someone just looks wrong? Yeah, people call it gut feeling. I preferred to think of it as a testicular reflex.
Mr. Rossi flashed a brilliant smile as he handed me a contract. "Aiden, let's discuss the terms. You won't find a better deal anywhere else."
I scanned the contract, my eyes narrowing at the fine print. "Hidden fees, reduced quality control... these terms don't align with our standards," I countered firmly, pushing the contract back across the table.
Mr. Rossi's smile faltered, replaced by a hint of irritation. "Come on, Aiden. Everyone cuts corners. It's just business."
I leaned forward, my voice steely. "Not for us. We've built our reputation on delivering the best to our customers. I won't compromise on that."
Realizing he couldn't sway me easily, Mr. Rossi shifted tactics, attempting to convince me of all I could gain if our restaurant went with him.
But I had gone prepared. I presented a wad of incriminating reports, customer feedback, and legal documents challenging his claims.
The tension in the room grew palpable as Mr. Rossi squirmed in his seat, forced to face the truth. He sighed with a touch of resignation in his voice. "Alright, Aiden. Let's find a middle ground. We can revise the terms and ensure quality assurances."
Relieved that progress was being made, I nodded. "Fair pricing, transparent terms, and stringent quality control. That's non-negotiable."
Days turned into weeks as I explored alternative suppliers, leveraging competing offers to strengthen our position. Negotiations became a strategic dance, a battle of wits and numbers.