It was a few minutes before noon on Wednesday when Dan looked up at the door. Surprised, he saw there was a rather large crowd of people gathering in front of the pizzeria. He estimated that there were fifteen people and that more were coming. The average age of the crowd was seventy. He recalled that the landlord had mentioned that there was a retirement community nearby.
For the next twenty minutes, he was extremely busy cooking pizzas and spaghetti. The two waitresses were rushed putting the ingredients on individual pizzas, fixing salads, and delivering the pizzas when Dan had finished cooking them. Other groups of three and four people came in even as his staff worked through the party of retired people.
During a very short break in the rush, Dan looked over at the picnic tables. Much to his surprise, half of the retirees were sitting on the tables. They were definitely having a good time. A few were standing around eating their pizzas. The other half of the retirees was seated at a couple of the patio tables. They were pointing to the mural and making comments about the scenes shown in them.
When one of the waitresses handed him another pizza paddle, Dan returned to cooking. The one good thing about the size of the oven he had purchased was that it allowed him to cook a large number of individual sized pizzas at a time. He was thankful for that trip to Las Vegas.
Adding to the number of pizzas he was cooking were delivery orders taken over the telephone. There were two medium pizzas to his old high school. One of the local companies had called in an order for four large pizzas. A doctor's office had called in an order for a large pizza as well. Seven pizzas constituted a pretty good lunch. As he worked, he wondered about the sales figures.
The rush finally eased off after one in the afternoon. The retirees were still sitting around the place laughing and talking. Dan had done as much business that one lunch rush as all four previous lunchtimes together. He was tired, but happy. It would be nice if every lunch time was like that one. He got busy cleaning up the pizza station while the waitresses took care of the tables.
When he finally finished cleaning up the pizza station, he looked around the pizzeria. He went over to the cash register and looked at the total sales for the day. It was over three hundred dollars. Excluding the delivery pizza orders, there were over forty sales with each sale averaging six dollars.
A little old lady came over to Dan and asked, "Are you the owner?"
"Yes, ma'am," Dan answered.
"We really like your place," the woman said. She had laughed at the mural in the bathroom. Too many places where the group ate lunch didn't seem to think that eating out should be fun. No one ever said anything to them about the noise they made, but there were dirty looks.
"I'm glad," Dan said with a smile. He had recognized her as one of the people who had been sitting on one of the picnic tables. He added, "We want people to have a good time here."
The woman said, "We would have been here earlier, but we were arguing over where to go. Next Wednesday we'll be here closer to eleven."
"That would be great. Any time you want to come here, we'll be glad to fire up the pizza oven for you," Dan said thinking that their earlier arrival would make it a little less hectic. Having one or two groups that ate lunch regularly at the pizzeria would be very good for his business. He decided that he'd make up a batch of cinnamon twists and hand them out before the group left.
The elderly woman said, "I remember when my late husband started his own plumbing company. There for a while things were really tight when we first started out. He built up the business to four trucks. We sold it when he was ready to retire."
"Sounds like your husband did well, ma'am," Dan said meaning it. His experience in the construction industry and starting the pizzeria gave him a little better appreciation for someone who was able to build a business like that.
"He did," the woman said. She gave him a small smile and said, "We managed to put both boys through college."
"That is good," Dan said with a nod of his head. He knew that college was expensive and was getting more expensive every year. The price of an education was rising faster than the cost of living. He said, "I hope that I'll be successful enough to put my kids through college."
"Do you have any kids?" she asked.
"Not yet," Dan answered with a shrug. It was the first time anyone had asked him about children, but he liked the idea. He said, "I'm hoping that I'll have children one day, but right now this pizzeria is my baby."
The woman looked at Dan and smiled at the reminder that he was probably busy. She said, "Here I am prattling on while you need to take care of business."
"That's okay, ma'am," Dan said.
"You're a polite young man," the woman said just before returning to her friends.
Dan watched the woman return to her group before turning back to the cook station. He pulled the cinnamon twists out of the refrigerator. After placing them on the paddle, he slid them into the oven. While the cinnamon twists were cooking, he checked over the quantities of dough to see how much he needed to make for the evening. He was definitely going to have to make some extra dough that afternoon.
It was the afternoon of the next day when the little old lady returned to the pizzeria. She was wearing a very loud outfit with a bright Hawaiian flowered shirt and shocking green pants. She came in and waved at Dan. Wondering where she could possibly have found that outfit, Dan waved back.
Spotting a pair of teenagers sitting at the picnic tables, she made her way over to them. Shaking her finger at them, she asked, "Don't you know that you're supposed to sit on the picnic tables?"
"Excuse me," one of the kids asked thinking that the old woman was senile.
"We aren't doing anything wrong," one of the other kids protested.
The woman turned around and perched her ass on the table. She said, "This is how you're supposed to sit."
"We can't do that," one of the other kids said.
"Sure you can," the woman said. She pointed to the mural and said, "See, the sign there says that you're supposed to sit on the picnic tables."
"Who are you?"
The old woman answered, "I'm Granny Parker."
With frequent glances over at Dan, the kids slowly sat down on the picnic table. They assumed that she was related to the owner and was giving them permission to sit on the table. Granny Parker spotted the plate of Cinnamon Twists and grabbed one. She popped it in her mouth. One of the boys said, "Hey!"
She pinched the boy's cheek and said, "You're so cute. I bet all the girls go wild over you."
The young man blushed. His friends immediately started to tease him. Granny Parker moved away listening as the volume of the pizzeria slowly rose. She grabbed one of the Nerf basketballs and moved over to another group of kids. She handed the soft ball to one of the boys there and said, "I bet you a mug of root beer that you can't make a basket from the free throw line."
"You're on," the boy said looking over at the little old lady. He went over to the corner with the Nerf basketball court followed by his friends. As they gathered around, he prepared to make a shot. He postured to demonstrate how cool he was and made a big production out of getting set up for the shot.
Just as he was about to shoot, Granny Parker reached over and goosed him. His shot went wild and his friends burst out laughing. Grinning at the boy, she said, "You missed."
"You cheated," he said looking at her in shock.
She smiled at him and answered, "Of course I cheated. How else was I to win that bet?"
"You're a little old lady. Little old ladies don't do things like that!" the kid said still staring at her.
Granny Parker called over to Dan, "Can we have some root beers here?"
Dan poured a root beer for each person over there. He delivered them over to the Nerf basketball area. The kids all took one and raised their mugs to Granny Parker. She raised her mug and said, "Cheers."
"Cheers," the boys answered as one.
Dan returned to the pizza station. He was followed by the little old lady. She said, "I'm Granny Parker."
"Well, Mrs. Parker; it is a pleasure to meet you. I'm Dan Parker."
"I don't want to hear any of that Mrs. Parker stuff from you. I'm Granny Parker," she said.
"Yes, ma'am," Dan said with a grin. He wondered if her last name was really Parker.
She turned and watched the kids playing for a moment. There were some teenagers playing twister. It was a game of boy versus girl and she suspected that while the boys thought they were winning that the real winners were the girls. She said, "I miss being around young kids. I used to teach kindergarten back in the day when it was fun. Now they've tried to turn it into school."
"You're welcome to come here anytime you want to play with the kids," Dan said.
"I'll come over every afternoon," Granny Parker said with a smile. She watched as one of the girls who was playing twister batted her eyelashes at one of the boys and said something to him. When the boy headed towards the pizza station, she was sure that the girls were winning the game.
The boy came up and waited. Dan said, "Can I help you?"
"Ma'am," the boy said gesturing to Granny Parker.
"I'm just chatting," she said.
"One order of cinnamon twists," the boy said. He leaned against the counter and looked back at the girl for whom he was buying them.
"I'll deliver them to you," Dan said ringing up the sale on the cash register.
Granny smiled and said, "I'll deliver them."
Dan laughed and said, "I stand corrected. Granny Parker will deliver the cinnamon twists."
The boy handed over the money for the twists and said, "I'll be over there playing twister."
Dan winked at him and said, "She'll definitely owe you a rematch for buying the cinnamon twists."
The young man blushed and said, "I hope so."
Granny watched the exchange with a smile. When the young man had left and Dan had finished putting the cinnamon twists in the oven, she said, "I remember when the game of Twister first came out. It was such a scandal at the time."
Diana sat at Dan's old desk reading the paper on happiness. She had finally decided to take the time to write down a personal definition of happiness and was reviewing the sections to clarify some of the concepts. As she reread the section on physical environment, she was struck by the thought that she didn't know what she wanted in terms of her surroundings. For ten minutes she stared at the paper.
Like a lot of women, there had been the time when she was a little girl where her room had been piled high with stuffed animals. In fact, she still had a few of them sitting on her chest of drawers. After the phase with the stuffed animals passed, she had decorated her room in pink. Now she was tending towards a more adult lace theme. The transitive nature of her taste in surroundings wasn't lost on her. It made it harder to establish what kind of surroundings she wanted in her life.
She knew that she wanted a man in her life. That thought led her to wonder how he would want the bedroom. She doubted that he would want to sleep in a room surrounded by lace. She didn't really want the kind of man who would feel comfortable living in that kind of environment.
Looking up from her blank sheet of paper, she said, "This isn't so easy."
Her mother looked in the room and asked, "What are you doing in here?"
"I'm trying to write a personal definition of happiness," she answered.
"No, I mean, why are you in Dan's room?"
Looking a little uncomfortable at having to admit it, Diana said, "I kind of miss having him around."
"I know what you mean," her mother said. It was impossible for a mother to be prouder of a son than she was of Dan. He was a good boy who had grown into a good young man. It was easy to fail to notice all of the little things he had done around the house. One of the things that she missed the most was how he washed the breakfast dishes to give her a little extra time in the morning.
"He kind of grows on you," Diana said shrugging her shoulders. Although he had been giving her grief about her boyfriend, she knew that he was doing it because he cared.
"By the way, we got an invitation to another of Sue's unveilings," her mother said. The somber beige envelop with a formal invitation had come in the mail that afternoon.
"Oh?" Diana said wondering why they would be invited to the event.
Nodding her head, her mother said, "She's going to show her painting of Kim at Lynn Anders' Gallery of Art."
"She actually did a painting of Kim Parker?" Diana asked. Knowing how Sue felt about Kim, she had to see that picture. She wondered if Sue had invited Kim.
"Yes. Considering how Sue feels about Kim... Well, I imagine that it is going to be a very powerful painting," her mother said.
Diana leaned over as if asking a personal question that she didn't want anyone else to overhear and asked, "Did you see the painting that Sue did with Dan in it?"
"Yes," her mother answered in a quiet voice. She had seen it when they had moved Dan's stuff over to Ann and Sally's apartment. She shook her head and said, "I felt a little like a father who opens a men's magazine and discovers his daughter is the centerfold. It is a little strange to see your own son that way."
"He wasn't naked," Diana said although she understood what her mother was saying. She always felt a little odd looking at the painting.
"He didn't need to be naked," her mother answered. The same could be true of the painting Sue had done of Diana. It was hard for a mother to watch her children grow into adults. It seemed like it was only a few days ago when they were little kids swinging on the swing set in the back yard.
Dan stood at the kitchen door watching Kevin working the pizza station. The guy was doing a good job keeping up with the orders despite the fact that it was a busy night. He looked down at the invitation in his hand and considered the matter. The problem was that it was on a Friday night and the staff was still just a little too inexperienced to run the place without him around. That was the busiest night of the week at the pizzeria.
He wanted to accept the invitation. He knew that Sue would be hurt if he didn't attend the unveiling. Ann and Sally were looking forward to it. He had two goals in conflict with each other and it was time to make a decision. Was he to put a professional goal above an emotional goal? Shaking his head, he thought about how many men lost their families because they did just that.
Diana returned from making a delivery and swung by the pizza station to talk to Sandra. Spotting her brother watching over the store, she went up to him and said, "Hello, Dan. That was another pizza successfully delivered."
Dan laughed and asked, "Let me guess. You took it out of the warmer and let it get good and cold."
"That's right buster. Dissatisfaction is my credo," Diana answered with a smile. The guy had given her a five dollar tip.
"I'm sure it is," Dan said with a grin.
"So what were you thinking about?" Diana asked.
Shrugging his shoulders, Dan said, "I was trying to decide if I was going to go to the unveiling."
"I'm sure that Sue would understand if you didn't go. Your business is only a couple of weeks old," Diana said.
"I'm sure she would," Dan said. He knew it was the truth. Sue wasn't exactly struggling to establish herself as an artist, but she was working hard to move out of the niche market in which she was established. She understood how much work it was to establish a business.
"So stay here and take care of your business," Diana said.
Dan looked at Diana for a second and asked, "Are you going to it?"
"Sure. Mom and I are going together," Diana said. She was looking forward to seeing the painting of Kim.
Nodding his head, Dan realized that he couldn't ask Diana to stay and watch over the pizzeria so that he could attend. He said, "Ann and Sally are going too."
Seeing the expression on his face, Diana said, "I could stay here."
"No. I think you should go. Take that little rat you are dating with you," Dan said.
Diana rolled her eyes and hit his arm. She said, "He's not a little rat."
"I'll take your word for that," Dan said with a grin. He looked over at the pizza station and noticed that Kevin was putting a pizza in a warmer bag. He said, "You've got another delivery."
"There's another pizza cooking. I'll go when it is done," Diana said. A delivery run with two deliveries was a whole lot better than two separate delivery runs.
"Good," Dan said. He looked back in the kitchen and said, "I guess I'll put up the spaghetti sauce for tomorrow."
"Better get back to work buster. The guy who owns this place is a real slave driver," Diana said with a wink.
"You're right. I'd hate to have him mad at me," Dan said with a grin. He returned to the kitchen and turned the heat off under the spaghetti sauce. It was always better the next day.
As he worked, he thought about the invitation. He had taken the Wednesday evening off to attend the CERT training session, but had returned to the pizzeria well before closing time. There hadn't been any problems, but he had only been gone for two and a half hours.
The problem was that he was still trying to establish the feel of his business. His thoughts were interrupted by the voice of his father, "Hello, Dan."
"Oh, hi Dad," Dan said turning to face his father.
"Diana said that you had a problem. I might be able to help you with it."
Wondering when Diana had talked to his dad, Dan said, "I could use a little advice."
It was very seldom when Dan asked his father for advice. Usually Dan would struggle with some problem and then ask if his solution was reasonable. His father asked, "What's the problem?"
"I've got a conflict between two of my goals. On one hand I want to have the business succeed and on the other hand I want to support my friends and family in achieving their goals. Sue is having an art show a week from Friday and I'd like to be there to support her in her first gallery opening," Dan said.
"So go," his father said.
"Well, the pizzeria requires my personal attention. I don't feel comfortable leaving it for an entire Friday night. I'm worried about something happening without me being here," Dan said.
His father looked through the door of the kitchen at the staff hard at work. Nodding his head, he said, "You want someone you can trust to look out for your interests here."
"Yeah," Dan said. It wasn't until his father put it that way that he realized it was how he felt.
"Do you trust me?" his father asked.
"Sure," Dan answered. It wasn't until the word was out of his mouth that he realized what his father was volunteering to do. He said, "I couldn't ask you to do that."
"Sure you can. I know that you want to make this business a success, but you don't have to do it alone, son. No man is an island. There's nothing wrong with asking your friends and family to help you out."
Dan stood there thinking about it for a minute. He was so used to going after things on his own that asking someone to give up their time for him was rather foreign to his way of thinking. On the other hand, he was the first to volunteer to help someone else. Looking down at the floor, he said, "You're right. I guess I sometimes forget that."
"We all forget that," his father said with a smile. He looked away for a second and then said, "One time when you and Diana were growing up, I got fixated on my career and forgot that I had other responsibilities. It all came to a head when I missed Diana's play when she was in sixth grade."
Dan remembered when that had happened. His sister had been crushed that her daddy hadn't gone to the play. She was young and didn't understand that her father had other things going on in his life. Dan said, "I remember how angry Mom was with you over that."
"What you don't know is that a friend of mine pulled me aside one day and showed me the error of my ways. He pointed out that I could have delegated some of my work and asked my coworkers to help a little. He said that I could have asked a friend to help out in other areas of my life. He mentioned that I could have paid someone to take care of a daily errand so that I could spend that time with my family," Dan's father said.
Nodding his head, Dan said, "There are always choices. The problem is being aware of all of them."
"That's right, son."
Dan said, "Would you mind staying tonight so that I can show you how to close up the pizzeria?"
"I'd be happy to stay here and help you close up the store," his father said. After glancing back at the pizza station, he said, "You might show me how to cook a pizza."
"Sure," Dan said. It would help to have someone else who could cook there when he was gone.
His father said, "Of course, you'll have to show me how to do that after I've eaten one."
"No. You're going to have to cook the one you're going to eat," Dan said with a smile.
Dan slowly learned the ebb and flow of customers through the normal business day. The lunch crowd came in after 11:30 and was basically gone by 1:30. The lunch crowd ate mostly individual servings rather than sharing pies. The average customer spent a little over six dollars. A good day would see thirty customers.
There was very little business during the hours between 1:30 and 3:30 in the afternoon. In fact, there was seldom even a single customer who walked in the door during that time. Dan used that time to prepare for the rest of the day.
The after school crowd usually lasted until 4:30. There were usually a lot of kids in each group who purchased soft drinks while sharing a single large pizza. He sold more cinnamon twists during the after school time than during the rest of the day. The average teenager spent three dollars, but there would often be fifteen to twenty of them in the pizzeria during that hour. It was also the time of day when the game corners got the most use.
There was a slow hour before the dinner rush started at 5:30 and ended at 7:00. This was when they sold the most large and medium pizzas. Depending on the day of the week, they usually sold thirty to forty pizzas. A good percentage of those sales were take-out, particularly on the weekends.
Throughout the evening, business was steady but not rushed. The after dinner crowd was a mixture of teenagers and families. The families typically ate at the regular tables while the teenagers played in the game corners.
He kept track of how many pizzas were served in the pizzeria, how many were take out orders, and the number of deliveries. Initially, take out orders and deliveries constituted the majority of his business. The number of people eating in the pizzeria was not as good as he had hoped.
It took a little time to develop, but people started relaxing and having fun. It amazed him at how people reacted to others who were sitting on the picnic tables. Almost without exception, the first time most people saw it they commented on how that couldn't be allowed. After a couple of visits, a lot of folks tried it for themselves.
The number of parties that were being held in the pizzeria slowly grew from one a week to several being held in a week. As the weather warmed, eat-in business grew. This was a good trend since it involved people purchasing items that had a larger profit margin. One serving of spaghetti had the same profit as a medium pizza. Two small pizzas had the same profit as a medium pizza. Since the lunch crowd tended to buy individual meals rather than one large pizza, that tended to make the lunch rush a lot more profitable than the dinner rush.
Lazlo Zalezac