I began waiting on tables in this little Italian restaurant Mondays through Fridays and just like the sign said, from six in the morning until two in the afternoon. Â After a little over a week I was an official member of the Union. Â I opened my first American, well really first ever, bank account. Â I did this at Bank of America.
I was doing fairly well and so I started to send money home for the family. Â My leaving Fiji left the full financial load once again upon my brother and it was only right that I should continue helping any way I could. Â
After about a couple of weeks working at this Italian place and secured in the Union, I went back over to the Indian restaurant and offered to take them up on their previous offer of employment. Â In all honesty it now would better suit me, timing being what it was and all.
Jack and Bill were still most interested and accepted me into their business; same offer as before, no wage only tips and food, until such a time as business steadily picked up. Â I know they were confident in my eager attitude and my seemingly endless brain of ideas. Â
I did not reveal to them that I was a member of the Union, I honestly didnât think about it, nor did they ask.
Perfect! Â I had a pretty good set-up I thought: Â I worked the breakfast and lunch shifts at the Italian joint and went home in the afternoon for a little rest. Â Iâd freshen up and go to work the dinner shift (3-4 hours in the evening) at the Indian place. Â Not bad for a single guy in a new world.
Now to make things happen for the Indian restaurant. Â I thought to pay a visit to the Indian Office of Tourism for travel posters and anything else theyâd like to spare which spoke of India, turning to the Consulate for extras. Â I would display these in the restaurant to lend some ambiance to the scene. Â I had some other plans too of course.
As I had walked along the streets of the city, I noticed some men lying about on the sidewalks quite literally, some propped against a building wall, sipping bottles of wine most usually. Â And so after a couple of weeks working in the Indian restaurant I found myself with what I thought to be a brilliant idea.
Having seen what I had while walking sometimes, I remember thinking that in my experiences up to now, on the average a person of supposed middle class standards would dare never to touch a cheap bottle of wine. Â Maybe theyâd even turn their noses up at it; and then perhaps only if someone was watching.
Okay never mind all that. Â One day I decided to buy an inexpensive bottle of wine to conduct an experiment. Â I took it in to the Indian restaurant that evening. Â Amongst other helpful suggestions I lent to the owners of this place such as complimentary lite appetizers, this could prove to be useful.
I put some wine into 3 or 4 glasses and dropped different food coloring into each one. Â The basic colors of blue and yellow; red obviously wasnât called for. Â It turns out the blue/yellow combination of green worked the very best, it had a jewel-like quality to it.
Mind you this is basic white wine that anyone can pick up for under a buck and a half. Â I showed the colored wine to Jack and Bill and their quick comeback was, âOh no, we canât sell that here!â Â I suggested they taste it and then comment. Â I hadnât yet told them what Iâd done. Â
They tasted it and said it was pretty good. Â Then I gave them each a taste of the white wine in its original form and they both said it tasted the same. Â Well of course it did. Â I then suggested we charge 50 cents per glass.
They pondered this over for a couple of days. Â Bill and Jack both agreed to start selling the wine in the restaurant, maybe they realised the profit margin? Â Jack suggested to serve it up in chilled glasses. Â Yes chilled wine glasses, Bill and I agreed. Â
And so I introduced it in a teasing form to the patrons as they sat down at their tables. Â âWould you be interested in trying a little glass of house wine?â Â Most everyone replied yes and so along with the little basket of appetizers I brought out, a sample of the wine came too. Â
The guests were naturally fascinated by the coloring; they would sip it conservatively. Â âHey thatâs pretty good,â most of them would say. Â âWhat is it called?â Â I would smile and reply, âJadoo.â Â Â Being asked what that meant, I told them it means magic, which it does. Â The two proprietors quickly added it to their menu.
Customers came in more often, drank more, ordered/ate more and my tips grew along with the clientele for this dinner restaurant. Â Bill and Jack would buy the wine in a box, we wouldnât run out.
In fact some of the customers brought in their own empty wine bottle to fill with âJadooâ so they could enjoy it at home. Â The restaurant decidedly charged them $3.50 for that.
Now these customers were telling others about their experience at this little Indian restaurant which of course brought in more people for dinner. Â Needless to say what the owners had hoped for their restaurant, was now happening for them. Â But they didnât keep their word.
The effort was never made to pay me a set wage now. Â Instead they noticed when Iâd cash in smaller bills for bigger ones at the end of the night, I was generally pulling in about $30-40 per shift working so few hours; they began helping themselves to half of my tips!
For a short while and only a short while I kept quiet.
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