"I've got an interview at my lawyer's office in The CBD."
"I'm gonna meet up with her in The CBD and I'll break up with her then."
"I gotta drive to The CBD to get a sandwich."
Something like that...
Mainly though, most everyone in that Southern city of trend, comfort, effort and caffeine calls it The City.
The City is laid out across a perfect, square grid of streets, laneways and tram-tracks. There was a time when most of that grid was a dangerous place to walk at night. There were a few open and well-lit boulevards with generously wide, slate-coloured sidewalks and they were a safer bet. As were the dim rooms behind doors cut out of the side of buildings which were filled with booze, pasta and heroin dealers. They felt particularly safe. But other than those few beacons, everything else was grey and foreboding.
This is how I remember it - recalling The City now and how it seemed to me then. It may not have been like that. It is however important to this story that you know it was like that. Before. That it was Dangerous and Criminal. And not in an exciting way. You should know, that at night The City was once a quiet and sinister grid made up of a heavy darkness and stillness that would only be broken on occasion by the screams of a desperate escape and the shining reflection of a street-light off a switchblade.
Then, the people who make such decisions, decided The City needed more restaurants. Places that were heavier on the pasta and lighter on the heroin dealers. So they came in from the Suburbs and opened up those places, And following them came the crowds and the lights and the shelter that follows on and along with all that. And then it was regular and safe across The City at night.
Fifteen years after that first big change, those crowds would grow again, this time bringing with them Yelp and Instagram and I'd start to feel exposed and unsafe once more. But before all that, I was running one of the restaurants that brought the first change - the first crowds of people in.
I wasn't meant to be there. I was hired quickly by two of the owners, so I could fill the position of the third owner who had been managing the place. He was out of town on his honeymoon. They had to move fast and install someone as cheap and available as I exactly was. This way, they could fire their business partner as soon as he and his new bride came off the plane and they'd have something to talk about on the ride back in from the airport.
It wasn't a big restaurant. It sat about sixty people and ran back from one of the thin laneways that criss-crossed the grid. A long and thin space. We had a dining room on the street-level and a basement cocktail-bar underneath - that was longer and thinner yet. I was entirely un-qualified to operate any service aspects of that business. The accounting, reporting and administration side I had down-pat. I had that under control. The parts that were, you know, actually related to managing an evening that got people hosted, fed and filled with booze as part of an elegant experience, well....not so much... I had a great team of staff that I had inherited and together we made it all sorta work.
About two months into my time of slowly drowning whilst occasionally floating over there, The Bank took ownership of the business. Turns out, the owners had run up large debts with them and those debts got called in and...well...The Bank now owned this little Restaurant and Bar.
I went to The Bank to meet with the guy - the guy who was now in charge. He sat behind a desk in a glass office. He had boyish features with hair that looked to be turning orange from blonde. He told me he had never taken over a restaurant before. His bank had, but he hadn't been in charge at that time. He said that the ousted owners had told him that I was the man to rely on. That I knew all the ins-and-outs of the restaurant and he could lean on me and I'd have everything under control.
This wasn't true. I'm sure it was true that they had said all that. It just wasn't true that I knew all the ins-and-outs. But I silently nodded along as he talked and he grew more and more confident in their declaration of my abilities. Often, the less you say, the more you seem to know
The Bank's plan was to sell the restaurant and recoup most of the money owed to them. We had been having a good run of busy weeks lately and we were in pretty good shape. They already had some interested buyers. We made a brief plan in terms of how to get the weekly wages and the day to day invoices paid by The Bank and I left his office.
The next Thursday, The Boyish Banker called to say that there had been an offer made and The Bank had accepted. We were closed on Sundays and Mondays and he had shown the buyers through earlier in the week. They were a young couple who managed a cafe around the corner from us and were familiar enough with the restaurant and the area to feel ready to make a quick offer. Their plan was to run the restaurant exactly as it was for the first month and decide about changes after that. I was to tell all the staff that their jobs were safe and secure for at least that first month and possibly on from that if they were interested.
The same didn't go for my position. They wanted me to stick around for the first week to help with the transition, but they wouldn't need me after that. I hadn't considered this outcome. It would seem like an obvious way that things would play out, but I hadn't considered it. Probably because I didn't want to have to think about getting another job. I was starting to feel comfortable and was enjoying that feeling.
I hung up the phone and went into the kitchen to update the chefs. They reacted with a muted confusion. After also talking with the few wait-staff that were in working that lunch shift, I called the rest - most of whom were on their way in for their evening shifts. They all had the same reaction.
Together, we had twisted and tilted things for the past month and we had turned the place busy and full . We blared louder music across the venue, ran the lights at a low red glow and pushed a daring and slightly hazardous energy. We shortened the menu and filled it with fresh and light flavours. The customers were drinking more. We were drinking more. We started to see the same faces every weekend and then they started to drop in on the weeknights too. It was a loose and lewd atmosphere, whilst still sending out smart, clean food with fast and sharp service. Inside at night, the restaurant felt like a hot and desperate destination and the basement bar like a reckless and hidden party.
Or maybe it was just that we were drinking more, There was certainly a lot of that. Sure. But we were also certainly getting busier and busier from week to week. We could all feel the growth and it was because of what we were building and working on and trying out and we felt proud. We felt proud that we had taken a business that had stalled - a place down a tight, dark, Dangerous and Criminal alley that had no shelter nor welcome - and we were working to make something else. Changing all that.
And yes - it had only been a month. And yes - we were drinking more.
But now it would all come to an end. The new owners would be more present than the last ones and there's no way they'd allow the freedom to experiment with running a month long Arabic Pop Music Festival over the sound system - using only music that we'd buy from taxi drivers after making cash offers for the CD's they were playing in their cars. The rolling gala masquerading as 'Business Development' was over. All we had time for now was one final party to acknowledge our short term feats and to farewell our time together. Well, their time together with me.
The Boyish Banker had said that he wanted to come in on Monday morning and do a final stock-check. I was to join him and we would total up the cash value of all the booze we were holding and that would be added into the contract of sale.
This meant that all the stock that we used up until we closed on Saturday night would have belonged to The Bank. And all the stock that was there on Monday morning would belong to the new owners. And in between that, there would be a gap . A no-man's land. A time between late Saturday night and early Monday morning when the stock would belong to no one. This would be our time. Our booze. This would be our party. Our goodbye.
Saturday night came around and we pushed the last customers out early. We usually stayed open till 1am on the weekends, but that one last night we locked the front door well before midnight. There was our crew of about twenty staff and about twice that amount made up of partners, friends and hangers-on.
We drank hard. We had to. There was so much booze to get thru.
The new owners could buy more. They could refill their shelves again. We, however, would never have our Final Night again. We would never again find ourselves bound together - as a group - in a bold and driving effort to drink a bar dry. For this is exactly what he had determined to do. It was just so logical. So correct. It was exactly what must be done. The only way to draw the line between from what had just been and what was to be. The bar had to be drunk dry.
The night turned quickly. We drank ourselves to the point and we did it fast. We were bold and passionate by the time we began to reminisce. Though we had only spent a few short months together, it had felt like more. Around us, the street had gotten both safer and hipper. The loitering groups outside - drifting along the sidewalk after dark - had grown in numbers. Inside, the bookings upstairs and the lines at the bar downstairs had grown too. In a way, we had been part of a change. A rebirth. A reclaim of the streets and The City. A very small part, sure, but still a part. And we had done it together. A group that perhaps didn't even like each other. Really like each other, anyways. And now all the bonding and cause and effect and sharing and booze was ending.
We declared for each other; of each other; and we drank on till the dawn began to light up empty shelves and broken bottles.
We said our final goodbyes and went our separate ways. We all left that morning feeling savage and romantic and like we had closed that chapter firmly shut. Done it right and done it proper.
I slept all through Sunday and woke up early Monday morning. I went out for a walk in park by my house. The air was still cool and I felt happy and satisfied to be moving on. A new beginning after a clean ending. It was probably for the best. We were doing great work, but the drinking every night was getting too much.
I got home, just as I felt the phone ringing in my pocket. It was The Boyish Banker.
"Good morning! I'm just getting ready to head on in to meet you." I cheerily greeted him with.
"Yeah, um...." his voice was low and then he sighed and continued, "About that. So they've pulled out. Those buyers have pulled out. Um, I'm not entirely sure what it was - what happened - but they're out. So, you're just gonna have to keep it all running. We still have other leads, but it looks like taking at least another month. But you guys are all still good and fine to keep on going, no?"
This wasn't true. I'm sure it was true that they had said all that. It just wasn't true that I knew all the ins-and-outs. But I silently nodded along as he talked and he grew more and more confident in their declaration of my abilities. Often, the less you say, the more you seem to know
The Bank's plan was to sell the restaurant and recoup most of the money owed to them. We had been having a good run of busy weeks lately and we were in pretty good shape. They already had some interested buyers. We made a brief plan in terms of how to get the weekly wages and the day to day invoices paid by The Bank and I left his office.
The next Thursday, The Boyish Banker called to say that there had been an offer made and The Bank had accepted. We were closed on Sundays and Mondays and he had shown the buyers through earlier in the week. They were a young couple who managed a cafe around the corner from us and were familiar enough with the restaurant and the area to feel ready to make a quick offer. Their plan was to run the restaurant exactly as it was for the first month and decide about changes after that. I was to tell all the staff that their jobs were safe and secure for at least that first month and possibly on from that if they were interested.
The same didn't go for my position. They wanted me to stick around for the first week to help with the transition, but they wouldn't need me after that. I hadn't considered this outcome. It would seem like an obvious way that things would play out, but I hadn't considered it. Probably because I didn't want to have to think about getting another job. I was starting to feel comfortable and was enjoying that feeling.
I hung up the phone and went into the kitchen to update the chefs. They reacted with a muted confusion. After also talking with the few wait-staff that were in working that lunch shift, I called the rest - most of whom were on their way in for their evening shifts. They all had the same reaction.
Together, we had twisted and tilted things for the past month and we had turned the place busy and full . We blared louder music across the venue, ran the lights at a low red glow and pushed a daring and slightly hazardous energy. We shortened the menu and filled it with fresh and light flavours. The customers were drinking more. We were drinking more. We started to see the same faces every weekend and then they started to drop in on the weeknights too. It was a loose and lewd atmosphere, whilst still sending out smart, clean food with fast and sharp service. Inside at night, the restaurant felt like a hot and desperate destination and the basement bar like a reckless and hidden party.
Or maybe it was just that we were drinking more, There was certainly a lot of that. Sure. But we were also certainly getting busier and busier from week to week. We could all feel the growth and it was because of what we were building and working on and trying out and we felt proud. We felt proud that we had taken a business that had stalled - a place down a tight, dark, Dangerous and Criminal alley that had no shelter nor welcome - and we were working to make something else. Changing all that.
And yes - it had only been a month. And yes - we were drinking more.
But now it would all come to an end. The new owners would be more present than the last ones and there's no way they'd allow the freedom to experiment with running a month long Arabic Pop Music Festival over the sound system - using only music that we'd buy from taxi drivers after making cash offers for the CD's they were playing in their cars. The rolling gala masquerading as 'Business Development' was over. All we had time for now was one final party to acknowledge our short term feats and to farewell our time together. Well, their time together with me.
The Boyish Banker had said that he wanted to come in on Monday morning and do a final stock-check. I was to join him and we would total up the cash value of all the booze we were holding and that would be added into the contract of sale.
This meant that all the stock that we used up until we closed on Saturday night would have belonged to The Bank. And all the stock that was there on Monday morning would belong to the new owners. And in between that, there would be a gap . A no-man's land. A time between late Saturday night and early Monday morning when the stock would belong to no one. This would be our time. Our booze. This would be our party. Our goodbye.
Saturday night came around and we pushed the last customers out early. We usually stayed open till 1am on the weekends, but that one last night we locked the front door well before midnight. There was our crew of about twenty staff and about twice that amount made up of partners, friends and hangers-on.
We drank hard. We had to. There was so much booze to get thru.
The new owners could buy more. They could refill their shelves again. We, however, would never have our Final Night again. We would never again find ourselves bound together - as a group - in a bold and driving effort to drink a bar dry. For this is exactly what he had determined to do. It was just so logical. So correct. It was exactly what must be done. The only way to draw the line between from what had just been and what was to be. The bar had to be drunk dry.
The night turned quickly. We drank ourselves to the point and we did it fast. We were bold and passionate by the time we began to reminisce. Though we had only spent a few short months together, it had felt like more. Around us, the street had gotten both safer and hipper. The loitering groups outside - drifting along the sidewalk after dark - had grown in numbers. Inside, the bookings upstairs and the lines at the bar downstairs had grown too. In a way, we had been part of a change. A rebirth. A reclaim of the streets and The City. A very small part, sure, but still a part. And we had done it together. A group that perhaps didn't even like each other. Really like each other, anyways. And now all the bonding and cause and effect and sharing and booze was ending.
We declared for each other; of each other; and we drank on till the dawn began to light up empty shelves and broken bottles.
We said our final goodbyes and went our separate ways. We all left that morning feeling savage and romantic and like we had closed that chapter firmly shut. Done it right and done it proper.
I slept all through Sunday and woke up early Monday morning. I went out for a walk in park by my house. The air was still cool and I felt happy and satisfied to be moving on. A new beginning after a clean ending. It was probably for the best. We were doing great work, but the drinking every night was getting too much.
I got home, just as I felt the phone ringing in my pocket. It was The Boyish Banker.
"Good morning! I'm just getting ready to head on in to meet you." I cheerily greeted him with.
"Yeah, um...." his voice was low and then he sighed and continued, "About that. So they've pulled out. Those buyers have pulled out. Um, I'm not entirely sure what it was - what happened - but they're out. So, you're just gonna have to keep it all running. We still have other leads, but it looks like taking at least another month. But you guys are all still good and fine to keep on going, no?"
