#restaurant sales increase | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

onlineemenu-software · 4 months ago

Text

Boost Customer Loyalty: How Restaurant CRM Software is Transforming Dining Experiences

In today’s highly competitive restaurant industry, creating an exceptional dining experience goes beyond serving delicious food. It’s about building meaningful relationships with customers and making them feel valued every time they visit. One powerful tool that is driving this transformation is Restaurant CRM Software. This technology has revolutionized the way restaurants interact with customers, manage operations, and enhance overall customer satisfaction. In this article, we’ll explore how Restaurant CRM Software is shaping dining experiences and boosting customer loyalty.

Understanding Restaurant CRM Software

Restaurant CRM Software (Customer Relationship Management) is a specialized tool designed to manage customer interactions, track customer data, and optimize marketing strategies for restaurants. Unlike generic CRM solutions, Restaurant CRM is tailored specifically for the food service industry, focusing on customer preferences, dining habits, and feedback. The software helps restaurants gain insights into customer behavior, enabling them to deliver personalized experiences that encourage repeat business.

The Importance of Customer Loyalty in the Restaurant Industry

In an industry where competition is fierce, customer loyalty is a critical factor in driving success. Retaining loyal customers is often more cost-effective than acquiring new ones, and loyal patrons are more likely to spread positive word-of-mouth about your restaurant. Restaurant CRM Software plays a crucial role in fostering this loyalty by allowing businesses to tailor their services and offers to meet the unique preferences of their customers.

Key Features of Restaurant CRM Software

To fully understand how Restaurant CRM Software is transforming dining experiences, it’s important to highlight the key features that make it so effective:

a. Customer Data Management

Restaurant CRM Software allows restaurants to collect and manage detailed customer data, including contact information, order history, dietary preferences, and feedback. This data is vital for creating personalized experiences.

b. Automated Marketing Campaigns

The software enables restaurants to run automated marketing campaigns based on customer behavior. For example, a customer who frequently orders takeout may receive a special discount on their favorite dish, or a guest celebrating a birthday might get a personalized offer for a complimentary dessert.

c. Loyalty Programs and Rewards

With Restaurant CRM Software, restaurants can easily set up and manage loyalty programs that reward repeat customers. These programs encourage customers to return by offering points, discounts, or exclusive perks for their continued patronage.

d. Feedback and Review Management

Collecting and responding to customer feedback is essential for improving service quality. Restaurant CRM Software allows businesses to gather feedback in real-time and address any concerns promptly, demonstrating a commitment to customer satisfaction.

e. Customer Segmentation

The software can segment customers based on factors like frequency of visits, spending habits, and menu preferences. This segmentation helps in crafting targeted marketing strategies that resonate with specific customer groups.

Enhancing the Dining Experience Through Personalization

One of the most impactful ways Restaurant CRM Software enhances customer loyalty is through personalization. By leveraging customer data, restaurants can offer tailored experiences that make guests feel special. For instance, knowing a regular customer’s favorite dish allows the restaurant to suggest it as soon as they walk in. This level of personalization not only enhances the dining experience but also strengthens the emotional connection between the customer and the brand.

Streamlining Operations with Restaurant Management Software

While Restaurant CRM Software focuses on customer engagement, it often integrates with Restaurant Management Software to streamline overall operations. From inventory management to employee scheduling, Restaurant Management Software ensures that the business runs smoothly behind the scenes. This operational efficiency translates to a better customer experience, as orders are processed faster, wait times are reduced, and service quality remains consistent.

How Data-Driven Decisions are Transforming Dining Experiences

In the digital age, data is king. Restaurant CRM Software empowers businesses to make data-driven decisions that can significantly impact customer satisfaction. By analyzing trends and customer preferences, restaurants can optimize menu offerings, adjust pricing strategies, and identify areas for improvement. This proactive approach not only boosts customer loyalty but also positions the restaurant as a forward-thinking brand.

The Role of Automation in Modern Restaurants

Automation is another key benefit of Restaurant CRM Software. Tasks that would otherwise require manual input, such as sending out promotional emails or updating customer profiles, can be automated, freeing up staff to focus on delivering top-notch service. Automation also reduces the risk of human error, ensuring that customer interactions are seamless and consistent.

Integrating CRM with Other Restaurant Technologies

For maximum efficiency, Restaurant CRM Software often integrates with other restaurant technologies like Point of Sale (POS) systems, reservation platforms, and online ordering apps. This integration creates a unified ecosystem where data flows seamlessly across platforms, providing a comprehensive view of customer interactions and business performance. Such an integrated approach not only simplifies operations but also enriches the customer journey by offering more convenient and connected services.

Success Stories: Restaurants Thriving with CRM Software

Many restaurants have experienced remarkable growth and increased customer loyalty after adopting Restaurant CRM Software. For example, a mid-sized bistro might have seen a 20% increase in repeat customers after implementing personalized email campaigns and loyalty programs. Another example could be a high-end restaurant that improved its customer satisfaction scores by quickly addressing negative feedback captured through the CRM system.

Future Trends in Restaurant CRM Software

As technology evolves, so does Restaurant CRM Software. In the coming years, we can expect to see even more advanced features like AI-powered chatbots for customer service, deeper integration with social media platforms, and enhanced analytics capabilities that provide real-time insights. Restaurants that stay ahead of these trends will be better positioned to deliver outstanding dining experiences and retain loyal customers.

Conclusion: The New Era of Customer-Centric Dining

The rise of Restaurant CRM Software is a game-changer for the restaurant industry. By putting the customer at the heart of every interaction, this technology helps businesses deliver personalized, memorable dining experiences that keep guests coming back. Whether it’s through tailored marketing campaigns, efficient operations, or data-driven insights, Restaurant CRM Software is undeniably transforming the way restaurants build relationships with their customers. For any restaurant aiming to thrive in a competitive market, investing in this technology is not just an option — it’s a necessity.

#Restaurant CRM Software #restaurant management software #restaurant management system #restaurant software #onlineemenu #crm software #restaurant business #increase restaurant sales #restaurant owners

0 notes

powerexec · 6 months ago

Text

Boosting Sales with Incentive-Based Marketing for Gig Workers and Small Business Owners

Supercharging Sales: Unleashing the Power of Incentive-Based Marketing for Gig Workers and Small Business Owners In today’s fiercely competitive marketplace, gig workers and small business owners need to think outside the box to stand out from the crowd and boost sales. One strategy that has proven to be highly effective is incentive-based marketing, a powerful approach that offers enticing…

View On WordPress

0 notes

mostlysignssomeportents · 7 months ago

Text

Red Lobster was killed by private equity, not Endless Shrimp

For the rest of May, my bestselling solarpunk utopian novel THE LOST CAUSE (2023) is available as a $2.99, DRM-free ebook!

A decade ago, a hedge fund had an improbable viral comedy hit: a 294-page slide deck explaining why Olive Garden was going out of business, blaming the failure on too many breadsticks and insufficiently salted pasta-water:

https://www.sec.gov/Archives/edgar/data/940944/000092189514002031/ex991dfan14a06297125_091114.pdf

Everyone loved this story. As David Dayen wrote for Salon, it let readers "mock that silly chain restaurant they remember from their childhoods in the suburbs" and laugh at "the silly hedge fund that took the time to write the world’s worst review":

https://www.salon.com/2014/09/17/the_real_olive_garden_scandal_why_greedy_hedge_funders_suddenly_care_so_much_about_breadsticks/

But – as Dayen wrote at the time, the hedge fund that produced that slide deck, Starboard Value, was not motivated by dissatisfaction with bread-sticks. They were "activist investors" (finspeak for "rapacious assholes") with a giant stake in Darden Restaurants, Olive Garden's parent company. They wanted Darden to liquidate all of Olive Garden's real-estate holdings and declare a one-off dividend that would net investors a billion dollars, while literally yanking the floor out from beneath Olive Garden, converting it from owner to tenant, subject to rent-shocks and other nasty surprises.

They wanted to asset-strip the company, in other words ("asset strip" is what they call it in hedge-fund land; the mafia calls it a "bust-out," famous to anyone who watched the twenty-third episode of The Sopranos):

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bust_Out

Starboard didn't have enough money to force the sale, but they had recently engineered the CEO's ouster. The giant slide-deck making fun of Olive Garden's food was just a PR campaign to help it sell the bust-out by creating a narrative that they were being activists* to save this badly managed disaster of a restaurant chain.

*assholes

Starboard was bent on eviscerating Darden like a couple of entrail-maddened dogs in an elk carcass:

https://web.archive.org/web/20051220005944/http://alumni.media.mit.edu/~solan/dogsinelk/

They had forced Darden to sell off another of its holdings, Red Lobster, to a hedge-fund called Golden Gate Capital. Golden Gate flogged all of Red Lobster's real estate holdings for $2.1 billion the same day, then pissed it all away on dividends to its shareholders, including Starboard. The new landlords, a Real Estate Investment Trust, proceeded to charge so much for rent on those buildings Red Lobster just flogged that the company's net earnings immediately dropped by half.

Dayen ends his piece with these prophetic words:

Olive Garden and Red Lobster may not be destinations for hipster Internet journalists, and they have seen revenue declines amid stagnant middle-class wages and increased competition. But they are still profitable businesses. Thousands of Americans work there. Why should they be bled dry by predatory investors in the name of “shareholder value”? What of the value of worker productivity instead of the financial engineers?

Flash forward a decade. Today, Dayen is editor-in-chief of The American Prospect, one of the best sources of news about private equity looting in the world. Writing for the Prospect, Luke Goldstein picks up Dayen's story, ten years on:

https://prospect.org/economy/2024-05-22-raiding-red-lobster/

It's not pretty. Ten years of being bled out on rents and flipped from one hedge fund to another has killed Red Lobster. It just shuttered 50 restaurants and declared Chapter 11 bankruptcy. Ten years hasn't changed much; the same kind of snark that was deployed at the news of Olive Garden's imminent demise is now being hurled at Red Lobster.

Instead of dunking on free bread-sticks, Red Lobster's grave-dancers are jeering at "Endless Shrimp," a promotional deal that works exactly how it sounds like it would work. Endless Shrimp cost the chain $11m.

Which raises a question: why did Red Lobster make this money-losing offer? Are they just good-hearted slobs? Can't they do math?

Or, you know, was it another hedge-fund, bust-out scam?

Here's a hint. The supplier who provided Red Lobster with all that shrimp is Thai Union. Thai Union also owns Red Lobster. They bought the chain from Golden Gate Capital, last seen in 2014, holding a flash-sale on all of Red Lobster's buildings, pocketing billions, and cutting Red Lobster's earnings in half.

Red Lobster rose to success – 700 restaurants nationwide at its peak – by combining no-frills dining with powerful buying power, which it used to force discounts from seafood suppliers. In response, the seafood industry consolidated through a wave of mergers, turning into a cozy cartel that could resist the buyer power of Red Lobster and other major customers.

This was facilitated by conservation efforts that limited the total volume of biomass that fishers were allowed to extract, and allocated quotas to existing companies and individual fishermen. The costs of complying with this "catch management" system were high, punishingly so for small independents, bearably so for large conglomerates.

Competition from overseas fisheries drove consolidation further, as countries in the global south were blocked from implementing their own conservation efforts. US fisheries merged further, seeking economies of scale that would let them compete, largely by shafting fishermen and other suppliers. Today's Alaskan crab fishery is dominated by a four-company cartel; in the Pacific Northwest, most fish goes through a single intermediary, Pacific Seafood.

These dominant actors entered into illegal collusive arrangements with one another to rig their markets and further immiserate their suppliers, who filed antitrust suits accusing the companies of operating a monopsony (a market with a powerful buyer, akin to a monopoly, which is a market with a powerful seller):

https://www.classaction.org/news/pacific-seafood-under-fire-for-allegedly-fixing-prices-paid-to-dungeness-crabbers-in-pacific-northwest

Golden Gate bought Red Lobster in the midst of these fish wars, promising to right its ship. As Goldstein points out, that's the same promise they made when they bought Payless shoes, just before they destroyed the company and flogged it off to Alden Capital, the hedge fund that bought and destroyed dozens of America's most beloved newspapers:

https://pluralistic.net/2021/10/16/sociopathic-monsters/#all-the-news-thats-fit-to-print

Under Golden Gate's management, Red Lobster saw its staffing levels slashed, so diners endured longer wait times to be seated and served. Then, in 2020, they sold the company to Thai Union, the company's largest supplier (a transaction Goldstein likens to a Walmart buyout of Procter and Gamble).

Thai Union continued to bleed Red Lobster, imposing more cuts and loading it up with more debts financed by yet another private equity giant, Fortress Investment Group. That brings us to today, with Thai Union having moved a gigantic amount of its own product through a failing, debt-loaded subsidiary, even as it lobbies for deregulation of American fisheries, which would let it and its lobbying partners drain American waters of the last of its depleted fish stocks.

Dayen's 2020 must-read book Monopolized describes the way that monopolies proliferate, using the US health care industry as a case-study:

https://pluralistic.net/2021/01/29/fractal-bullshit/#dayenu

After deregulation allowed the pharma sector to consolidate, it acquired pricing power of hospitals, who found themselves gouged to the edge of bankruptcy on drug prices. Hospitals then merged into regional monopolies, which allowed them to resist pharma pricing power – and gouge health insurance companies, who saw the price of routine care explode. So the insurance companies gobbled each other up, too, leaving most of us with two or fewer choices for health insurance – even as insurance prices skyrocketed, and our benefits shrank.

Today, Americans pay more for worse healthcare, which is delivered by health workers who get paid less and work under worse conditions. That's because, lacking a regulator to consolidate patients' interests, and strong unions to consolidate workers' interests, patients and workers are easy pickings for those consolidated links in the health supply-chain.

That's a pretty good model for understanding what's happened to Red Lobster: monopoly power and monopsony power begat more monopolies and monoposonies in the supply chain. Everything that hasn't consolidated is defenseless: diners, restaurant workers, fishermen, and the environment. We're all fucked.

Decent, no-frills family restaurant are good. Great, even. I'm not the world's greatest fan of chain restaurants, but I'm also comfortably middle-class and not struggling to afford to give my family a nice night out at a place with good food, friendly staff and reasonable prices. These places are easy pickings for looters because the people who patronize them have little power in our society – and because those of us with more power are easily tricked into sneering at these places' failures as a kind of comeuppance that's all that's due to tacky joints that serve the working class.

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/05/23/spineless/#invertebrates

6K notes · View notes

centrally-unplanned · 1 year ago

Note

VOR: Henry Kissinger

Ugh, HUGELY overrated, Bismark has nothing on him. What, truly are his accomplishments? Oh, rapprochement with China? You mean the country that had just experienced a huge split with the Soviet Union, to the point where they were scared of military conflict, that was simultaneously backing North Vietnam in a war against the US? And so we opened doors to them and gave them literally everything they asked for, hanging Taiwan out to dry, and in return got absolutely nothing; China's aid to North Vietnam actually *increased* the year after? The corpse of a roadkill dog could have done that.

The "cease fire" with North Vietnam? That's just losing with coat of paint to poorly cover the shame! At least he had the self-respect to try to return his Nobel Peace prize. Ho Chi Minh handed him his ass on a platter and somehow that is a win on his ledger.

Accelerating arms sales to the Shah of Iran in order to back separatist fighters in Iraq? Whoops! Wow, that uh, wow what a call there. Really picked the right side.

Coup against Allende in Chile? That went well! Not to mention...he didn't. Chile coup'd Chile, Allende was a complete disaster imploding the country's economy. The Chilean military asked for permission as like a token gesture, we gave them support that didn't matter. Its like taking credit for a sports team win because you bought box seats, except at this game they dropped the opposing team's family out of a helicopter headfirst onto the pitch.

All the SALT treaty stuff started under Johnson, he continued it which is fine but is VORcel stuff. His grand "pivot to Europe" was trying to link trade policy to increases in defense spending from European partners...which didn't happen. They didn't increase them. We gave them trade deals anyway. Its fucking Trump without the memes.

On March 1, 1973, Kissinger stated, "The emigration of Jews from the Soviet Union is not an objective of American foreign policy, and if they put Jews into gas chambers in the Soviet Union, it is not an American concern. Maybe a humanitarian concern.

Awww "I'm such a cool little edgy boy, look at me and my joke about the Holocaust when discussing systemic discrimination against Jews the Soviet Union, surely this will somehow score me Realpolitik points on the Big Board that I can cash in for prize money while shedding America's moral legitimacy because it makes my dick hard."

He is the academic definition of style over substance, snottily walking from fuck-up to disaster to status-quo free ride and putting a pithy quote about The Nature of Power over it to pretend he had any to begin with. Hurry up and die already so I can stop running into you haggling over hostess tips at overpriced Georgetown restaurants.

F-

1K notes · View notes

growingstories · 1 year ago

Text

The artist

Jamie Henderson had always dreamed of becoming a successful artist. Growing up in a poor family, his ambitions were often misunderstood. But Jamie didn't let that discourage him. After graduating from art school, he took a job at a famous art gallery, hoping it would help him in his artistic journey.

However, working in the gallery turned out to be rather dull and uninspiring. Dealing with snobby and unappreciative clients was a daily occurrence. Jamie's talent remained unrecognized and he didn't know how to lift off his career.

One day, as Jamie stood by the window, lost in his thoughts, he noticed a handsome guy walking by. Smiling, Jamie couldn't help but smile back when the guy looked his way. To his surprise, the next morning, the same guy walked by again, holding two big Starbucks cups. He offered one to Jamie, a delicious coffee with caramel and cream. This ritual continued for rest of the the week, and Jamie began to look forward to these encounters.

It turned out that the handsome guy's name was Richard Pearson, a successful partner at an investment bank. They started talking and getting to know each other better. Jamie felt an instant connection with Richard, who was in his mid-30s. His charisma and intelligence intrigued Jamie.

Their daily meetings evolved into dates, and Richard invited Jamie to dinner at a very expensive restaurant. Jamie hesitated, knowing he couldn't afford such a luxury. But Richard insisted, assuring him that this one was on him.

The following week, Richard took Jamie on another extravagant date. This time, Richard suggested that Jamie could make a painting in return. The idea excited Jamie, and he poured his heart into creating a beautiful painting. Richard was in awe of the artwork Jamie presented him and suggested that he use the artist name "James Hampton" when displaying it in his family house in the Hamptons.

Their dating continued, and Richard consistently showered Jamie with gifts and extravagant experiences. He brought him coffee every morning, took him to expensive restaurants almost every night, and their intimacy was truly amazing. Jamie, despite his talent, felt guilty that he couldn't do anything in return for Richard's generosity.

One day, Richard proposed that they visit the Hamptons together so Jamie could create a large art piece. Eager to pursue his art free from distractions, Jamie accepted the offer. Richard let Jamie stay in his beach house for a week, ensuring he had everything he to needed create his masterpiece.

Secluded in the peaceful winter Hamptons, Jamie spent his days immersed in his art. Richard had food delivered daily indul,ging Jamie's every craving. The lack of exercise and constant indulgence took a toll on Jamie's body, and he gained a few extra pounds. He realized he had forgotten his running gear and couldn't find the motivation to work out.

When the weekend arrived, Richard picked Jamie up, and their passion reignited. Jamie nervously showed Richard his completed artwork, and Richard was awe-struck by the beauty Jamie had created. Back in the gallery, the routine continued, with sugary coffee and lavish dinners. Jamie's weight continued to increase and he struggled to fit into his clothes. He showed Richard a tight shirt, embarrassed by his expanding waistline. In return, Richard offered to take him to an expensive tailor for new shirts and trousers.

As months went by, Jamie's talent flourished, and his art pieces gained recognition. Richard saw great potential in his protege and proposed a life-changing opportunity. He suggested that Jamie leave the gallery and become a full-time professional artist, using Richard's Hamptons beach house as a studio. Richard would arrange gallery spaces twice a year for Jamie's pop-up exhibitions, and they would split the sales proceeds, with Richard receiving a kickback. Moreover, Richard would cover Jamie's monthly living expenses and make a financial investment to support his artistic career.

Jamie, overwhelmed by the offer, eagerly agreed. He had always dreamed of dedicating his life to art, and's proposal Richard seemed like a come dream true. The only concern Jamie had was about his weight and fitness. Richard assured him not to worry, suggesting that he should just go for runs and hit the gym on weekends.

With the support of Richard, Jamie created artwork after artwork. Each day, more delicious home-delivered meals arrived, and Jamie indulged in every bite. He asked Richard to cut down on the food deliveries, but Richard assured him that any leftovers could simply be thrown away. Fueled by constant indulgence, Jamie's weight continued to climb, and after three months, he had gained 25 kilograms.

Surprisingly, Richard didn't seem bothered by Jamie's increasing size. He loved being Jamie's mentor and enjoyed their time together, focusing solely on Jamie's artistic development. The summer arrived, and preparations for the gallery began. Despite feeling self-conscious about his weight, Jamie worked diligently on his art. Richard, understanding Jamie's insecurities, took him to the tailor for new clothes, assuring him that his talent and art were what truly mattered.

The summer in the Hamptons was a whirlwind. Parties, lavish dinners, and Jamie's artwork received great acclaim. He had become a well-known and respected artist, even with his growing weight. Richard, proud of his protege's success, couldn't have been happier. His investments had paid off, and Jamie and Richard were a content and loving couple.

The routine of their life continued after the summer. Jamie's talent brought in more and more money, allowing him to relax and focus on his art. His revenue increased, and he raised his prices accordingly. Unfortunately, as the weeks passed, Jamie's weight continued to rise steadily, rendering most of his clothes unwearable., Richard however, loved Jamie unconditionally and cherished their life together.

And so, the story of Jamie and Richard, their love and artistic success, went on. Jamie's body grew heavier, but his artistic abilities continued to shine. Richard treasured him more with each passing day, happy to have found a partner who understood his ambitions and supported his dreams. And so, they lived their lives passionately, showing that love and art could flourish regardless of size or appearance. The end.

#fictionalweightgain #maleweightgain #maleweightgainstories #weightgain #weightgainstories #fictionalstories

1K notes · View notes

olowan-waphiya · 1 year ago

Text

of fucking course.....they fucking coated paper straws with pfas......its a fucking nightmare

Long-lasting 'forever chemicals', which can cause damaging health issues, found in 18/20 brands of paper straws

In the first analysis of its kind in Europe, and only the second in the world, Belgian researchers tested 39 brands of straws for the group of synthetic chemicals known as poly- and perfluoroalkyl substances (PFAS).

PFAS were found in the majority of the straws tested and were most common in those made from paper and bamboo, the study, published in the peer-reviewed journal Food Additives and Contaminants, found.

PFAS are used to make everyday products, from outdoor clothing to non-stick pans, resistant to water, heat and stains. They are, however, potentially harmful to people, wildlife and the environment.

They break down very slowly over time and can persist over thousands of years in the environment, a property that has led to them being known as "forever chemicals."

They have been associated with a number of health problems, including lower response to vaccines, lower birth weight, thyroid disease, increased cholesterol levels, liver damage, kidney cancer and testicular cancer.

"Straws made from plant-based materials, such as paper and bamboo, are often advertised as being more sustainable and eco-friendly than those made from plastic," says researcher Dr Thimo Groffen, an environmental scientist at the University of Antwerp, who is involved in this study.

"However, the presence of PFAS in these straws means that's not necessarily true."

A growing number of countries, including the UK and Belgium, have banned sale of single-use plastic products, including drinking straws, and plant-based versions have become popular alternatives.

A recent study found PFAS in plant-based drinking straws in the US. Dr Groffen and colleagues wanted to find out if the same was true of those on sale in Belgium.

To explore this further, the research team purchased 39 different brands of drinking straw made from five materials -- paper, bamboo, glass, stainless steel and plastic.

The straws, which were mainly obtained from shops, supermarkets and fast-food restaurants, then underwent two rounds of testing for PFAS.

The majority of the brands (27/39, 69%) contained PFAS, with 18 different PFAS detected in total.

The paper straws were most likely to contain PFAS, with the chemicals detected in 18/20 (90%) of the brands tested. PFAS were also detected in 4/5 (80%) brands of bamboo straw, 3/4 (75%) of the plastic straw brands and 2/5 (40%) brands of glass straw. They were not detected in any of the five types of steel straw tested.

The most commonly found PFAS, perfluorooctanoic acid (PFOA), has been banned globally since 2020.

Also detected were trifluoroacetic acid (TFA) and trifluoromethanesulfonic acid (TFMS), "ultra-short chain" PFAS which are highly water soluble and so might leach out of straws into drinks.

The PFAS concentrations were low and, bearing in mind that most people tend to only use straws occasionally, pose a limited risk to human health. However, PFAS can remain in the body for many years and concentrations can build up over time.

"Small amounts of PFAS, while not harmful in themselves, can add to the chemical load already present in the body," says Dr Groffen.

It isn't known whether the PFAS were added to the straws by the manufacturers for waterproofing or whether were the result of contamination. Potential sources of contamination include the soil the plant-based materials were grown in and the water used in the manufacturing process.

However, the presence of the chemicals in almost every brand of paper straw means it is likely that it was, in some cases, being used as a water-repellent coating, say the researchers.

The study's other limitations include not looking at whether the PFAS would leach out of the straws into liquids.

Dr Groffen concludes: "The presence of PFAS in paper and bamboo straws shows they are not necessarily biodegradable.

"We did not detect any PFAS in stainless steel straws, so I would advise consumers to use this type of straw -- or just avoid using straws at all."

#PFAS #straws #science #contamination #pollution #environmental pollution

673 notes · View notes

mysteryshoptls · 8 months ago

Text

SR Azul Ashengrotto - Luxe Couture Vignette

"Please come this way"

[Fairest City – Crystal Galleria]

Azul: …Now, now, don't say that!

Azul: I would be honored if you would come by the Mostro Lounge to come see my photo with Eric-san.

Vil: I'm staggered. You would not only use my father, but also myself to increase your reputation?

Grim: Oh hey, if it ain't Vil and Azul. What're you guys talkin' about?

Azul: We just happened to come across each other over here, so we were merely chatting about plans once we return to campus. Have the two of you been shopping?

1. I bought some clothes for myself.

Azul: You bought clothing at the Crystal Galleria? You must be a better shopper than I thought.

2. I bought some gifts for everyone back home.

Azul: A wonderful sentiment. Keeping people in your debt is very valuable.

Azul: I myself just finished purchasing some cosmetics. After this, I plan on perusing some tableware.

Grim: Huh, tableware? Don't really matter what gets used, to me.

Grim: The food 'n drinks're waaay more important than the plates 'n cups.

Azul: I fully believed that would be your response, Grim-san.

Vil: I absolutely adore that sort of dedication. The more opulent the tableware, the more sophisticated the mealtime becomes.

Vil: Weren't the plates, cups, and cutlery at the restaurant we dined at yesterday utterly sublime?

Grim: I don't remember a thing about 'em.

Vil: ...Right, I was a fool for even asking that in the first place.

Azul: The golden rimmed white porcelain plates at that restaurant was indeed spectacular.

Azul: Decorated in both matte and glossy gold, these surely were high-quality wares. A rare sight, indeed.

Vil: Well, now. You're well informed, Azul.

Vil: It may be interesting to shop for tableware with someone who actually knows a thing or two. I'll join you.

Azul: Why, certainly. Would you like to join us, [Yuu]-san?

1. I'd like to. 2. I'm definitely interested.

Grim: 'Kay, then I'll tag along too, then. But anyway, do they even sell stuff like that here?

Vil: Of course. Fine ceramic wares are yet another major product of the Fairest City. There are also many antique shops.

Grim: Uh-huh. So it's not just make-up 'n clothes 'n food, huh.

Azul: It is said that there were 3 primary factors that led to the development of those fine ceramic wares in the Fairest City.

Azul: The first factor was due to the nearby mines.

Azul: The neighboring mountain range had an abundance of high-quality clay, for which artisans from all over began to come for.

Azul: The second factor is the development of pharmaceuticals thanks to knowledge passed down from the Fairest Queen.

Vil: That pharmaceutical science was then used to develop a diverse array of pigments, and that allowed for the field of colors to become what it is today.

Azul: Indeed. It's just as you say.

Azul: And the final factor is the sense of beauty that every Fairest Queen-loving inhabitant of the Fairest City carries.

Azul: Thus, the potters and sculptors who were raised with a heightened awareness of beauty themselves brought their ceramics to an entirely new level when it comes to works of art.

Vil: Only the residents of the Fairest City would find ways to elevate beauty in fields other than fashion and makeup.

Azul: We've arrived. I hear this shop carries a rather large collection of antique tableware for sale.

Vil: Have you already done prior research?

Azul: Yes, indeed. I must admit I have been looking forward to purchasing new tableware.

Grim: Woah! There's a ton of sparkly dishes and stuff!

Vil: What sort of tableware are you planning on purchasing, Azul?

Azul: I believe I'd like to find teacups, saucers, and a matching teapot.

1. What about this golden tea set?

Grim: Yeah! The shiny gold color is so cool! Azul: I see they allowed gold to oxidize and used that to create a pattern for the design. I must admit it is extravagant and definitely draws an eye. Vil: An opulent design. However, I feel it may not suit the Mostro Lounge.

2. Look at this pink tea set!

Azul: I see it is a set of teacups with a frill molding. The flower pattern along the rim is so wonderfully subtle. Vil: A rather cute design. However, I feel it may not suit the Mostro Lounge.

Azul: Fufu, I agree completely. Perhaps now we can look at the wares that had caught my eye?

[Fairest City – Crystal Galleria]

Azul: This is the one I am looking to purchase here.

Grim: This one, huh? It's just a borin' looking white cup with a tiny bit of blue stuff on it.

Azul: That dainty and subtle touch is intended to be its charm point… It seems you fail to comprehend that, Grim-san.

Azul: This bright white porcelain shows not a hint of translucency… Does it not seem to be the pinnacle of class?

Vil: It certainly does have a refined beauty about it.

Azul: The elegant design carved out of the rim of the teacup is called a "scalloped rim."

Azul: And consider this wave-like handle curled along the side… Even the minute details are so stunning.

Grim: A handle? What, you gonna steer somethin' with this cup, then?

Vil: Obviously the handle is where you hold the cup.

Vil: But, Azul. These cups and teapot are a vintage set.

Vil: Is there any need for you to use such an extravagant tea set in a café that caters to students?

Azul: Indeed. I consider this a necessary investment.

Azul: Just because my customers are students does not mean that I intend on compromising my standards.

[Fairest City – Queen's Palace]

[camera shutters clicking and screaming]

Fans: KYAAAAAAAAA! VIL-SAMAAAAA!!!

Reporter: If I can run an article on Vil Schoenheit, then there's no doubt that both magazine sales and website traffic are gonna go through the roof!

Reporter: Alright, now I just gotta hop this barrier so I can cover Vil Schoenheit up close…

[Grrk…]

Azul: Oh, my, it is dangerous to attempt to climb the barrier. Please take all photographs from the designated area.

Reporter: You little brat, don't get in my way! [Azul starts pushing] Urgh, what strength! He's pushing the whole barrier back towards me…!

Azul: If those instructions cannot be followed properly, I may have to take appropriate countermeasures…

Azul: For example, I may be inclined to ring up your place of employment and file a complaint at the highest levels.

Reporter: Okay, fine, just get out of my way, then! I can't even take a picture with you like this!

Azul: How wonderful that we've reached an understanding. Vil-san, please come this way.

Vil: Thank you… You were awfully efficient in handling that.

Azul: When you've made as many deals as I have, it's not uncommon to encounter troubled clients in need of extra firm handling.

Azul: I'm just glad I was able to put the mediation skills I've accumulated to good use.

Vil: Not only are you handling the press well… But you are doing a fantastic job as my escort.

Azul: Well, it also is not uncommon for me to host prospective business contacts personally, either.

Azul: Ah, we are almost at the staircase.

Azul: Right this way. If you wish, my hand is yours to take.

Vil: Well, then. I shall accept it.

―A few days later

[Mostro Lounge]

Octavinelle Student: Welcome!

Azul: Oh my… If it isn't Vil-san! You've come, as promised! I'm so elated.

Vil: Excuse you. I don't recall ever promising you anything. However…

Vil: I was merely thinking back to how you handled yourself previously. I do expect exceptional service today as well.

Vil: Business seems to be going well… Are you using that tea set you purchased back then?

Azul: I am. Right now… The guests at that table are enjoying the tea served in it.

Deuce/Epel: AHAHAHA!

Vil: …There is no way those two even remotely understand the worth of those cups.

Vil: Neither would the rest of these customers. Do you still think that it was worth selecting that specific set?

Azul: Absolutely. I vow to serve drinks and meals on quality dishes that I have personally selected.

Azul: That is something that I will never compromise as the proprietor of the Mostro Lounge.

Azul: You yourself would never touch clothes or cosmetics that don't suit your design or aesthetic taste, yes?

Vil: So, just as I carefully concoct my personal brand by being particular on how I fashion myself…

Vil: You look to enhance the Mostro Lounge by careful consideration of the tableware and table linen.

Vil: I think that fastidious approach of yours is just as spectacular. Perhaps I have judged you a tad harshly.

Azul: Why, thank you. I fully believed that you of all people would understand, Vil-san.

Azul: However… I cannot deny that at times I would like to share that appreciation of the tableware's elegance with someone who actually understands their worth.

Azul: That being said, Vil-san, allow me to prepare your order on my absolute finest plates.

Requested by Anonymous.

#twisted wonderland #twst #azul ashengrotto #vil schoenheit #deuce spade #epel felmier #twst azul #twst vil #twst deuce #twst epel #twst grim #twst yuu #twst translation #twst tapis rouge #mention: eric

259 notes · View notes

am-i-the-asshole-official · 9 months ago

Note

AITA for exposing some parents' lies in front of their children?

So I ( at the time 25F) used to be a fast food worker in a mall until last year. In the restaurant we had a very eye catchy gumball machine, and families that walk past the restaurant tend to get stopped by children asking for these. Some parents are okay with it but most are not. Those who refuse to get some tend to deal with the situation questionably sometimes. The ones that get on my nerves the most are the parents who expect ME to convince the children not to buy some, as if I weren't busy already fixing their food. It's a small booth so I'm the only worker there and it's hell when it gets busy. However, for the sake of professionalism, I do try and talk the children out of it. "It's not healthy" is my favorite argument, actually my only argument, I can't think of another reason not to buy it. It doesn't work obviously but at least I tried?

The other type of parents that annoy me are the parents who outright lie to their children to get them to stop asking for gumballs. Like "the machine is broken", "it's just for display, not for sale" are the most popular lies I could remember right now. It's none of my business when this happens, even though I don't agree of this method of parenting. Children are my favorite people (if anyone remembers me, I sent the AITA about hanging out with children and ditching adults- so you'd know how much I love these little people) and I hate it when adult treat them as if they were dumb? Needless to say, most children don't even believe those lies and would argue with their parents. "Why keep it there if it doesn't work/ not for sale?"

Now, whenever children argue with their parents, some times the parents would look for someone else to back them up on their lies. They'd look at me and wink. "It's broken, right?" "It's not allowed for public use, isn't it?" And expect me to agree with them.

I really hate it when this happen. They demand that I side with them adults against those impressionable and innocent children??? To commit acts of dishonesty in the face of a cute child that just wants a candy of a certain color? Okay but my issue is the fact those customers demand I lie. Just like I said, I hate doing that because it's like I'm mocking their their intelligence and encouraging bad parenting. The other reason is, I'm a Muslim and lying is a sin, and putting me in a tough spot where I'm forced to sin is uncomfortable and I draw the line at it. I live in a highly religious Muslim area too so it's not like they aren't aware of that either. Like, I'm not claiming to be perfect, I have absolutely lied before and committed other sins, but I refuse to increase my sin count doings something I'm totally against? The third reason is, I'm Autistic so I happen to be very blunt, so I'm not used to lying at all, I'll suck at it if I try anyway.

So here's where I might be TA:

When the parents seek me to help cover their lies, I act as if I don't understand what they want me to do and contradict them. For example they'll say "Hey, the machine is broken, isn't?"

I pull my innocent confused face and say something along the line of "Oh no, it works perfectly fine, just insert a coin to get it to work!"

If they say something like "It's not for sale it's just decoration, right?"

I'll reply with "no of course you're allowed to use it, sir."

And so on.

I had a blast doing that, for once, I get to be slightly rude with Karens who can't call me out because their children are right in front of them so they'll have to admit they were lying. Also I work alone so there's no superior they can report me to, and it's a huge chain restaurant so one sigle bad review will cause no harm and even go unnoticed, but it's not like any parent bothered looking up how to report me since they are so busy trying to get their children to leave, which means I get to do whatever I want. Also management was very nice for a change and they always shot down any complaints about me.

However, I'm not a parent myself so I don't understand their struggle to keeping their children under control.

Anyway, AITA for not lying with them and exposing them in the process?

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole

109 notes · View notes

foodivsystems · 2 years ago

Text

#Food Ordering System #increase restaurant sales #online food ordering systems #Foodiv #best online food ordering system

0 notes

onlineemenu-software · 5 months ago

Text

Explore the benefits of using multi-restaurant delivery software to effectively manage multiple locations. This comprehensive guide delves into how advanced delivery solutions can streamline order processing, improve delivery tracking, and enhance overall efficiency. Learn how integrated systems can centralize operations, reduce manual errors, and provide real-time insights, ultimately boosting the performance of your restaurant chain and ensuring a seamless customer experience across all your locations.

#multi-restaurant delivery software #multi-restaurant meal delivery software #online food ordering software #food ordering system online #food ordering platform #online food delivery software #increase restaurant sales #restaurant software #restaurant management software #restaurant management system

0 notes

penvisions · 1 year ago

Text

garnish {chapter 3}

Pairing: Chef! Joel Miller x Bartender! Reader

Summary: Thoughts about Joel Miller have you desperate for something you hadn't sought out in quite a while: human touch. So when your friends suggest a girls' night out, you readily agree. It's just your luck that the very man plaguing your thoughts happens to be at the bar picked out for the night.

Word Count: 6.5k

Warning: alcohol consumption, drunken interactions, creepy flirthing, unwanted attention, fighting, bar fights, nonconsensual touching (not joel), protective joel, injuries, blood, degrading talk, power dynamics, abuse of power, restaurant lingo, triggers associated with the food industry, smoking, cigarettes, joel miller is a conflicted man, kissing, drunk makeout session

A/N: this story is literally keeping me from climbing the walls in my apartment, i've applied to over 20 jobs the last few days and made even more calls to see if places were hiring. the issue isn't finding something, it's finding something willing to pay me for my experience and skill set. but i found out a local coffee shop is opening a new location and i should be getting a call back with interview times for that today, they need cooks and bakers and i can definitely do that

ao3 || series masterlist || main masterlist

It was Wednesday, your normal day off for the week, but Joel had scheduled you two hours of prep, the shift reminder notification early that morning. It had woken you up, having allowed yourself to sleep in after the rather busy shift the night before. It had been a record-breaking sales day, the concert downtown only blocks away bringing increased foot traffic. It had been a week and a half since that terrible Sunday shift where you had finally given into hunger and had ordered food only to be told you had messed up. You had gone hungry that night, nothing in your kitchen at home.

You hadn’t spoken to Joel beyond confirming that dishes were ready to go out and helping to take updated pars out to the servers’ board for them to be aware of throughout services. Lists were left atop the sandwich prep station, and you completed it every shift you had before making your way toward the bar. They were in his writing, some things new with recipe page numbers for the guidebook stored on the expo line.

You had completed a few things on your list and were moving onto the next thing when his booming voice sounded from the walk in.

“Where are the rest of the yellow onions?”

Everyone in the kitchen looked over their stations, including you. The yellow onions you had chopped up for the red lentil soup were sitting in the pot you had atop a portable burner on the left side of your station. Cutting board beside it as you chopped the carrots that were to be added next.

“Whose used yellow onions today?” His brow was furrowed, lips downturned as he gazed around the kitchen. The three confirmations of ‘here, chef’ had him moving intimidatingly through the space, the first two seemed to come out of their interaction unscathed. But you felt like you weren’t about to be so lucky.

“When did you start the prep for these? They look nearly caramelized already.” He stirred the wooden spoon resting in the deep pot, getting a feel on the state of the onions cooking inside. You had stepped aside, hands behind your back as you let him inspect your station. He turned to watch as you answered, professional air about you as you briefly met his eyes with your own. You spoke in an even tone, worried about how he was going to react. He had already proven himself comfortable with cutting you off and denying you food that you had paid with your own money. And that was when you hadn’t actually done anything to warrant that type of reaction.

“I started this half an hour ago, gathered them from the walk in as I gathered everything else, chef.”

“Did you happen to notice that you grabbed the last ones? There are none in the box, left empty on the shelf. That you too? Don’t understand the way things work here, do ya?” He turned with a sharpie held tight between his fingers and he jutted it at the dray erase board beside the walk-in door where things low in stock were to be written down. “In case anyone is unclear on how this kitchen operates: things low in stock are to be written on that board there BEFORE we run out. Boxes or containers that are emptied while grabbing items are to be discarded or put into dish, not left on the shelf for the next person to find.”

“Yes, chef!” The chorus rang out evenly throughout the room.

He turned back to the portable burner and clicked it off, turning the nob off and the whoosh of gas going out was loud in the slight hum of busy work that the kitchen returned to once he had finished speaking.

“Why don’t you go clock yourself out.”

“Chef, there-“ You tried to talk to him, let him know that you had left nearly three pounds of onions left in the box. It wasn’t empty when you left the walk-in. You had been too wrapped up in your work to notice who else had gone in afterwards, though you wouldn’t have sold them out to begin with.

“Go. Clock out, now.”

“Yes, chef.” You wouldn’t raise your face to meet his look. Trying to keep your anger in check lest you give him a real reason to go off on you. Instead, you moved to grab your sharpie laid out over the recipe binder. The small field notes pad of paper beside it with the notations for a double batch written neatly on the page it was open to. Joel blocked your movement with a sidestep, his broad figure blocking your reaching hand.

“Now means now.”

“My-“

“Is now mine. Go.”

Your eyes flicked up and you tried your best not to pin him with the annoyance that was humming through your very blood. This man was nothing but a nuisance, you had only agreed to come into the kitchen because they were short staffed. But it was degrading work, to be around this man who deemed nearly everything below par and had extreme standards for the way things were to be done. The two instances of common decency he had offered you had to have been a fluke, maybe he had been extra tired and worn out those days, didn’t mean to let his guard down. Either way, you were quickly getting over the fluctuating temperatures of his attitude. At first it had been jarring, but you weren’t about to let it get to you any longer. You were determined to face it head on or dish it back out in what ways you could safely do so without risking your job.

You were lagging outside of the back door, standing with the bar back, whose name was Millie and a server who were both on break. You each had a cigarette in hand, swapping stories about the worst pick up lines that you had been approached with. You had removed your apron, it was folded carefully in your crossbody bag to be washed when you got home, simple black long sleeve Henley along with it. That left you in your black denim with that kitschy cute heart belt buckle and a dark green racerback. You had left your hair up in its normal fashion of low buns on either side of your head, short black beanie atop your head.

“You gotta admit,” Your laughter ringing through the air accompanied by the giggles of the two girls in front of you. “He was honest, what better way to start a conversation, though I could’ve done without the-“

All the laughter cut off as the backdoor opened and Joel appeared with a bag of trash. The two younger girls snubbed out their waning cigarettes and scurried inside, deeming breaktime over with his sudden arrival. You watched as Joel tossed the bag over the lip of the nearby dumpster before removing his gloves and tossed them in as well. He removed a pack of his own cigarettes from the breast pocket of his chef’s coat, and you could see the spiral wiring of your notebook peeking out over the top of it. His eyes took in the way your lips moved as you took a long drag from your own, bringing your phone out to ignore him.

The snick snick snick of his lighter resulted in a deep grunt, and you looked at him out of the corner of your eye. The cigarette he had pulled out was between his plush lips and his dead lighter was being pushed back into the pocket of his chef’s pants. When his eyes flicked to you, your attention snapped back to your phone. He cleared his throat, and you cocked an eyebrow up at the sound, turning to give him the barest hint of attention. He was leaning heavily against the side of the building, his hands stuffed in his pockets as he regarded you.

“Do you-

“Nope.” You took the last drag before snuffing out your own cigarette and tossed the butt into the pail beside the door. You started walking toward the parking lot, your truck beeping with a press of the control in your hand. The strap of your bag over your shoulder caught the man’s eye as you began to move away.

“You’re just gonna walk off from your shift?”

“Today’s my day off, chef.” You didn’t look back at him but could tell that your words had affected him.

“Shit, I-“ He straightened up and moved away from the wall, taking a step toward you, his hands coming out from his pockets to take the unlit cigarette from between his lips.

“Don’t worry about it. Now you don’t have to worry me using up all your inventory, right?” You pulled another cigarette out from the pack still in your hand along with your phone and brought a lighter out from your own front pocket. You took a long drag and blew the smoke in his direction over your shoulder, aware of his gaze on your back and you hopped into the cab of the truck.

The next day, everything that was on your prep list had been completed and the one for today had instructions on where to find the mise for each recipe. Everything was already prepared for you and were just combining and finishing the last few steps of each one.

“Hi there, what can I get started for you?” You placed a coaster down on the bar top before a glass of water, eyes coming up as you smiled at the new guest. Your smile faltered a little when the face of your biological evolution professor beamed back at you, but you didn’t let your surprise show other than that.

“I heard a rumor that the bartender here made the best whisky drinks. Here to test out that theory.” His voice was smooth, something you had often spoken aloud to your friends that made the class lectures rather easy. His baritone deep and the ways in which he spoke with such passion and interest in his material was an added bonus to understanding the class subject matter than most.

“Let’s get to testin’, what your preferred whiskey?” You busied yourself making the drinks that had been rung up the last couple of minutes, the man having sat to the side of the well in the last seat along the right side of the bar.

“I’m a Bullet man, myself. But I’m up for whatever you think is best.”

“Oh, well, of course the one I think is best is our top shelf.” You tossed the man a playful smirk, aware that it was a possible line being crossed. But neither of you were on campus, you were at work, and he was one of your bar guests. His laugh was beautiful as he knocked his head back, the line of his throat catching shadows from the strong lights over the bar.

“I actually prefer Woodford, it’s not too expensive but its leagues above some of the stuff on the shelves like Evan Williams.”

He was funny, quick-witted. Matching your jokes as fast as he could. Bringing up documentaries he had recently seen.

“No, but like that’s the thing! There’s been no discovery of this caliber ever before, its unprecedented in nearly every aspect.” You were making a round of lemon drops for a group of girls on the other end of the bar, loading up the shaker and then securing the smaller component over it before lifting your hand and shaking it. As you did so, you reached over to grab the coup glasses you would need for the pour. A figure appeared at the well, taller than the servers and barback, who had gone on break a few minutes ago.

You glanced over at Joel, the man had his hands atop the plastic mats, eyes taking in the organized garnish container and the jars of small straws and picks for the servers to complete their drinks. You nodded at him to let him know you saw him and would be with him as soon as possible before you held the shaker tight in one hand and used the heel of your palm to knock the smaller part loose. Your hand was steady as you parted the two components enough to strain the bright pink liquid from the ice, not looking up from it.

“To actually have fossil evidence of not just any Hominid species, but of a newly discovered hominid species, with a crafted tool in their fuckin’ hand! Like, I got chills, and I was pretty sure my attention was plastered to the screen. Didn’t even touch the food I made that night. I immediately started just taking notes throughout the whole thing.”

“To be fair, it was just as intriguing to find out that the child’s body had been in the cavern wall, not even properly buried like the rest of the bodies in the Dinaledi chamber.”

“Oh my gosh, I know! That opens a whole plethora of questions about what that child was even doing, was he the one carving those symbols into the wall, was he alone- hold on one moment.” You moved over to the other side of the bar, two coup glasses cradled carefully in each hand, and you took the four of them over to the girls who had been watching you make them. They were all bright smiles and excited giggles as you told them you used Meyer lemons for a sweeter drink and added a bit of cherry juice for the color.

“She’s a busy one, guests seem to love her.” Your professor smiled over at Joel, who was watching you flit around behind the bar much like he had been admiring all night. Joel’s eyes snapped to the man beside him and he just nodded, crossing his arms over his chest.

“She knows what she’s doing.”

“Not much of a talker in class, but her papers are beyond wonders. The way her mind makes connections is amazing. And the way she uses her words so carefully, so eloquently.”

“You go to school with her?” Joel questioned, mind going over the small interactions he’s had with you recently. You tended to stutter over your words around him, as if you were hesitant to speak in the first place. He didn’t like the comparison, now, seeing you in your element and recalling the way you had always been professional around him. But this, you behind the bar and completely enthralling as you entertained so many people and mixed drinks like it was second nature. Firing back jokes and conversation as if it was the easiest thing in the world. Your laughter ringing through the space of the dining room. He felt the pull of a frown, not liking the shift he was causing in you lately.

“Oh no, school is way behind me. I’m her professor.” The grunt Joel made seemed to display his trepidation at the revelation and the man was quick to jump into defense mode. “It’s not what it looks like, she’s at work and I’m just here on a friend’s word that it’s a good place. Didn’t even know she was here until I sat down.”

“Sure.” Joel said in a tone that said he didn’t buy a word the man was saying.

You were back with them by the well, professional smile in place as you addressed Joel. You were busy tucking a receipt and some bills of money into your server’s book, secured underneath the counter and atop a cooler beside the drink station.

“Yes, chef?”

“Bourbon for the steak sauce. And whatever amber you have on tap.” He tried to muster up the courage to lighten up his face from a frown, but the way your eyes flashed away from him told him it didn’t work.

“Heard, chef.”

You busied yourself with retrieving the bottle of bourbon he had asked you to tack onto your order. He hadn’t wanted to deal with the liquor vendors himself and sure you would find a better deal than him anyway.

“It’s gonna be a 6.7 percent amber, it’s smooth and the notes of pecan to cut the malt. Only one I have on tap at the moment, that okay?” You talked over your shoulder, picking up on the waves and attention from the other patrons of the bar top, reaching to get more than the one glass needed for just Joel’s request. You poured two blondes, an IPA, and a stout and placing them in front of those who had been nursing them all night before going to pull the tap for the amber. It poured for maybe two seconds before it sputtered and compressed air forced itself out of the spicket.

“I told Millie to change out the keg last night, I’m sorry, chef. It’s gonna take me a minute before I can step away and replace it.” Your brows were furrowed in a worried expression, not wanting this to be something he used against you. You were really hoping to get something to go later, needing to finish a paper that was due tomorrow before class. He must’ve clocked the rising panic in your eyes because he squared his shoulders before shoving off the drink station.

“I gotcha, which label am I looking for?”

“Oh, um, Riverbank Red.”

“Heard.” He turned to move toward the small walk-in just behind the bar, the heavy door opening easily underneath his hands. You could hear him rustling around inside, the hiss of him removing the empty keg and then the clunk of him placing the new one in its place. The two knocks on the wall alerted you that it was all set and you pulled the tap, compressed air working its way through the hook up before foam began to stream. Letting it run for a few seconds, you turned around and grabbed a fresh pint glass for Joel’s drink. You used the previous one and filled it, cutting off the tap and took a long pull from it.

When you lowered the glass after your drink, you found two pairs of eyes on you. You looked between your professor and Joel, both on each side of the corner of the bar. Some of the foam from the outside of the glass when the tap died out had run down your chin and settled on your chest. The cut of your shirt was a little low, your simple, silver chain necklace catching the soft glow of the bar lights much like the foam.

You avoided meeting either of their gazes as you poured a second pint for Joel and walked it over. Before you could place it atop the drink station beside the bottle of bourbon already waiting, he reached out for it and his thick fingers brushed yours. His beautiful, brown eyes flashed down and caught yours, full of something you didn’t recognize, prompting you to pull your hand away as you struggled to catch your breath.

His teeth clicked with the clenching of his jaw, his hands tightening around items he came over for and he turned to make his way back to the kitchen.

“He’s not much of a charmer, is he?”

“He just has an asshole voice, don’t mind him.” With a somewhat fake smile plastered on your face, you turned back to your professor and started making him another drink as more rang through the printer. “Now, what were the most concrete dates we had archived for allusions to tool use?”

The alcohol in your system was washing your stress and anxieties away. Moving your body along to the song that was bumping from the speakers of the bar that held a small dance floor. Your friends’ bodies were moving alongside you, along with you, tangling with your own in a heady and exciting way. It was such a relief to not have any worries at the moment, only blipping thoughts of ‘oooh this is a good song’ and ‘another drink, yes please’.

You were taking a break, downing a glass of water and ordering a round of shots for everyone. There were five of you altogether and they huddled around you as you passed one to each of them, smiling widely at the bartender across from you. He just chuckled with a shake of his head and moved on down the bar to help out two waiting men. If you had been paying attention, you would’ve recognized one in a particular. But you were too preoccupied with the rather loud cheers the girls were trying to agree on before someone finally just shouted, ‘drink up, bitches!’ and you were downing the shot along with them.

The burn of it down your throat was anticipated and you gathered the empty glasses from them while they sputtered and coughed, not able to handle it as well as they normally could with already being more than tipsy. You were leaning over the bar a little, on your tip toes to place them atop the washer on the plastic pad you knew the bartender liked to gather used cups before loading them up.

A large hand found the exposed small of your back, your crop tank top allowing for the skin to be on display. It was dangerously close to the waist of your skirt, and you jerked back with a start, face contorting into one of anger.

“Hey, who the fuck do you think you are?” You settled back on your heels, the height of them making you a little taller than normal. Your eyes swept over the crowd around the bar and found that your friends had returned to the dance floor, leaving you to deal with this on your own. Not that you couldn’t, but it would’ve been nice to have a witness. The man in question was rather tall, blonde, nice suit, but his forwardness left little to be desired.

“Just helpin’ to hold ya steady, looked like you were about to flip over the bar, little lady.”

“Keep your hands to yourself.”

“Didn’t mean to offend-“

“Yeah, well, ya did. Don’t fuckin’ touch me, got it?”

“C’mon now. You were gettin’ all close and personal with your friends, maybe I wanted a feel for myself.”

The man stepped closer to you, and you could smell the alcohol on his breath, cheap and cloying as it wafter over into your personal space. His hands were coming up as if he were going to wrap them around your hips and pull you to him. His eyes were raking slowly up and down your body, taking in the short skirt and crop tank top you had deemed appropriate for the night. The cleavage peeking out of the top of your shirt glistening with the glitter body spray you had used before leaving your apartment.

“Leave me the fuck alone.” You spat, stepping away from the man only to collide with another’s back who had been passing by.

“Watch where-“ Joel of all people turned around, a scowl on his face. You felt like a deer caught in headlights, totally caught off guard that your boss was here in the same bar. The beer in his grip had sloshed over his fingers when you slammed into him and it was dripping to the already sticky floor. There was another man beside him, similar height and build. He had the same brown eyes and you realized they must be related.

Joel’s eyes took in the slightly panicked air about you, gaze moving behind you to see the man you had been fleeing from in such a haste.

“He touch you?”

“Don’t know if that’s any of your business, old man.” The man stepped forward and hooked a finger on the strap of your crossbody, pulling you backwards and you stumbled at the bold move. “We’re just two friends having an intimate-“

You maneuvered your stumble into a pivot and raised your clenched fist to deck the guy across the face, cutting off his words. You felt the crack of his nose beneath your knuckles, the action splitting two of them open. There was a gasp and a bark of laughter from behind you.

“I said, don’t fuckin’ touch me.” You sneered, anger lighting you up from the inside out. You didn’t pay the dull ache of your new injury any mind as you brought your arm back closer to your body, but you did flinch when the man’s hands shot out and his nails scratched along your neck where he had tried to grab you.

Joel was moving with a grunt of effort before you could fully register that the man had lunged at you.

Body slamming into his and pinning him face down against the bar with a hand tight on the back of his neck. His forehead had cracked against it, and he had shouted out weakly at the pain the action must’ve caused. His arms were twisted behind up, Joel’s right one holding them tight by the wrists. As he did so, the man with Joel had pulled you away from the confrontation, hands far more gentle with you than the man now pinned to the bar.

“You okay?” Joel looked back at you, his eyes hard and his expression schooled into one of control despite the way he had just cracked that man’s head on the top of the bar. When you didn’t answer, he looked to the man who had pulled you further out of harms way. “Tommy, she okay?”

There was no time to answer him, the bartender was out from behind the bar in a second, security that checked identification alongside him and they were forcefully guiding the man toward the door. He was putting up a rather good effort, but the two men were stronger than him. He turned with one last look over his shoulder and spat at you. The spray of it startled you and the tears that formed were angry, wet, ugly things.

Suddenly, the girls were swarming you, all talking at the same time and guiding you toward the bathroom to help get you somewhere safe to gather yourself. You let them guide you away from Joel and what you assumed was his brother, not glancing over at them lest they see more of the tears than they already had.

The bathroom muffled the booming music enough to hear your own thoughts, the lights a little brighter to help you process what had just happened. The girls were dabbing wet paper towels underneath your eyes to wipe your smeared makeup, to sooth the scratch marks on your throat. They plopped you down on one of the chairs off in the corner, removing your bag from around your body and just allowed you to take however long a moment you needed. Someone fetched a bottle of water from somewhere and you gulped down half of it without taking a breath. Your hands were shaking and you lifted your hand up to inspect the damage on your knuckles.

Someone gasped and it startled you, making you jump in your seat and then the bartender was there with a first aid kit.

“Me’n my boyfriend kicked him out, some cops were walking down the way and he taken to the station.”

He said as he kneeled in front of you, tearing open a package of sterile gauze. He dabbed some disinfectant on it before gently taking your hand and patting it across the top of your hand.

You found yourself back up at the bar, seated in a stool with your bag laid over the back of it. Your friends had checked on you again and pouted at your insistence of not going to another place with them. They wished you a good rest of the night and told you to check in with them when you got home, you returned their kind words.

You downed the last dregs of your cocktail, a vodka something, and gathered your keys from your purse.

Heels heavy, you stumbled over your own feet as your head swam and the lights of the bar flared. You reached out for the back of the stool but ended up grabbing onto a man’s arm. It was warm and strong and white-hot desire raced down your spine at the contact. Bringing your face up to apologize, it was lost in your throat as you realized it was none other than Joel Miller you were holding onto. You stepped back, turning from him to properly retrieve your bag this time.

“You’re not the boss of me here, lemme go.” You struggled against the hold he had on your upper arm, where he had turned you to face him. He seemed to realize you were uncomfortable and he dropped his hand, allowing you to turn back to face the bar. Jerry looked from your annoyed expression to the man behind you, taking in the situation and trying to determine how best to deal with it.

“Hey, man, good on you and your brother for helping us get that guy earlier, but I don’t think she likes the attention.”

“She’s drunk, you really gonna let her leave alone?”

“She comes here a lot, knows her limits and she’s got me to look out after her.”

“She’s drunker ‘n you think.”

“I am not.”

“Darlin-“

“I am not your anything, Mr. Miller.” You turned back on him with such a glare he was surprised you could hold the look in your state. He could see the way your head was lolling with every turn, your movements loose and uncoordinated. “This is a public space, I am not your prep cook and you are not my boss. You can’t lord over me and refuse me food here like at work. And I want…I want French fries.”

You stumbled as you turned around to face him again with heat behind your words. Eyes flaring in anger as he tried to reach for you again. Your body sung where one of his arms wrapped around the small of your back, helping you to keep upright as your balance faltered. The heels weren’t helping. You wished you had just stayed home, the sting of being ditched by your friends, the sting of his treatment at work and the workload of your classes, all of it was a lot and tonight was supposed to help you get out of your head, not make things worse.

“You-“ You swayed on your feet, leaning back from him slightly. The length of his forearm supporting you as you did so and stabbed a finger into his chest to emphasize your next words. Ignoring the way that his chest was firm and hot through the fabric of his shirt, he would probably have chest hair and it would be as peppered as his scruff… “You’re mean.”

His brother was doing his best to smother his laughter behind a hand, but you could hear it and you pouted even more.

“Your little brother is laughing at me and you’re a meanie.” You shoved away from him again, the warmth of his arm gone from your back as you turned around to retrieve your bag from the back of your stool. “I’m leaving.”

“The hell you are, you can’t walk, let alone drive.”

“Don’t need help. I’ve been on my own for as long as I can remember.”

“Sweetheart, you-“ Tommy tried to step in, hoping that maybe he could help out the situation. It was clear they were both worried but you were just being so stubborn. Jerry was right, you didn’t like the attention, you didn’t like getting felt up and your boss had been there to witness the aftermath. That he was still there and seeing you in such a way.

“I’m not your sweetheart.” Your voice held more bite than you thought you were capable of in your current state. Tommy stepped back with his hands held up in surrender. His brows furrowed as he shared a look with his brother.

“Lemme call you a cab, please.”

“No, I don’t need anything from you. You made it clear how you feel about me, barking at me all day when I’m helping you with your kitchen because the staff don’t wanna show up and deal with you.”

“Oof, that’s a hard hit, brother.” Tommy reached over to help you drape your purse strap over your shoulder, the crossbody secure over your form and he stepped away as you pushed at his hands much like you had done with Joel. “You really did a number on her.”

“Lemme just, please, lemme take you home. Need to make sure you get home okay.” His voice was pitched quiet, leaning a little into your space with an open expression. His hands were at his sides, not reaching out to touch you again, his fists clenched at his sides. Your eyes lingered on the way his mouth formed around the words and you swallowed the harsh ones you were about to fire back at him. All you could manage was a small nod.

That’s how you found yourself in the passenger side of his own truck, waiting in a short line of a drive through.

Once your fries, and some for him too, had been passed through the window, he was following the spoken instructions to your house. Watching the way you watched things pass by the window as you munched on the salty treat in your lap out of the corner of his eye. The dried blood on your split knuckles making his stomach lurch as he thought of that man putting his hands on you and the look on your face when you tried to flee. The look on your face when you had run into him, eyes wide and panicked.

You had calmed down, now in a lazy mood after the adrenaline packed events of the night.

“You do know what you’re doin’, just don’t think I’ve ever said it out loud ‘fore now.”

“Hmm?” You rolled your head along the back of the seat to face him, bringing a fry up to the seal of your mouth as you did so. He had to look away from the sight, your entire body and demeanor relaxed. Your expression was so open and curious, eyes soft as you looked over at him. Containing none of the animosity and worry he seemed to pull from you at work as you looked him over. He was in a pair of dark wash jeans that his thighs looked good in as he drove, a simple white Henley for a shirt. It allowed for the tan of his skin to pop, the grays that speckled his hair looking good in the lights of passing cars and lamps.

“You-uh-you, nevermind.” Joel’s deep voice wavered before he cut off, not being able to handle the earnest gaze you had pinned him with, his hands tightened on the steering wheel.

“Mkay, whatever you say.” You turned back to look out with window, letting him know that your complex was around the corner.

He parked along the curb beside the gate that opened up into the parking lot. Watching him as he hopped out of the cab and toward your side of the vehicle, his expression hard to read. He was opening the door and leaning into the can to undo your seatbelt. Not wanting to risk you trying to do it and spill your fries, knowing you would probably tear up at the mishap should it occur. He said as much under his breath when you asked him what he was doing and you couldn’t help the giggles that bubbled up from your chest as you agreed with him, it would be tragic.

Once unbuckled, he reached for the fries in your hand and put them back in the bag they came in, tucking it into your purse that was still across your body.

“Will you let me help you step down?”

At your nod, his hands came around your waist, the wideness of them allowing his fingers to span across your back in a tantalizing way. He lifted you a little, holding most of your weight as you hopped down from the cab. His arms tensed around you as you felt yourself wobble, forgetting you were in heels for the entirety of the drive. Another round of giggles bubbled up and you found yourself leaning more into Joel’s space. His body was warm where you were pressed up against his front, the scent of cedar stronger tonight than it had been all those nights ago when he insisted on making you food to take home.

“I wish you liked me.” You spoke quietly into his neck, lips brushing against the skin there as you did so.

You felt his fingers twitch where they held onto you before you were pulled back a little so he could look down at you.

“Darlin’, I do like you, that’s the problem.”

“Doesn’t have to be.” You wrapped your arms around the back of his neck, pulling yourself closer to him.

“You’re not in the right state to be talkin’ about this right no-“

Surging up, you smothered the words from his lips with your own. His arms tightened around you, pulling you flush against him as he kissed you back. As if he was unable to stop himself despite the words he had just been ushering. It was all teeth and tongue, sparking heat that pooled low in your middle. A whimper sounded in the air, Joel swallowing it as he licked into your mouth. Your nails dug into the curls at the base of his neck and you pulled.

A deep groan rumbled through his chest and you pulled away to catch your breath, looking at the face of the man who had been consuming your thoughts for weeks now.

He looked back at you, took in the way your eyes were blown out and dilated, the puffiness of your swollen lips, the quick breaths you were taking to recover from his mouth on yours, the heat that he was causing was all consuming and you knew that he could feel through your skin underneath his hands. He was swooping back down to capture your lips, his hands moving up to cradle your face in his hands as he did so and you melted at the action.

Consciousness hit you like a jolt and you were shooting up from your bed. The covers fell from you to pool around your waist, and you looked around the room, nothing looked out of place but something felt off, so incredibly off. Your bag was on the bedside table, an empty greasy bag crumpled beside it and your lips were tingling with the memory of pressing them against someone else’s.

“Oh, fuck.”

You had drunkenly kissed your boss.

And he had kissed you back.

previous chapter || next chapter

245 notes · View notes