My friend Thirsty always comments about my living in a suburb of Atlanta s opposed to the actual city of Atlanta. Two events of the past week make me realize how right he can be.
I go into my cleaners to get my work clothes for the week and I am greeted by Salim.
“You don’t unbutton shirts, I don’t clean any more.”
“Excuse me?”
“You shirts, no unbutton.”
Okay. So I decipher that Salim is saying that I fail to unbottom my dress shirts. And he’s right. They aren’t unbottoned. I take the shirt off, pull out the tee-shirt, and throw it in the hamper or on the floor.
So basically Salim is saying that I cannot bring my dry cleaning to him any longer.
My response;
“Okay. I’ll just go across the street. Thank you for your work. Sorry for the inconvenience. Have a nice day.”
Mo’ Better Chicken is a hole in the wall, soul food restaurant located around the corner from my house. I probably eat there twice a month. The food is usually mediocre at best but for a quick vegetable plate, it’s good enough.
So I go in, survey the vegetables, and spy a bowl of potato salad. I love potato salad. I ask for a sample and my request is denied. When I ask why, I get-
“You aint gon’ go into Burger King across the street and ask for no samples. Why you gone ask me?”
“Well, a whopper always tastes like a whopper at each Burger King I may visit. However, everyone’s potato salad tends to be different. But no matter. I don’t want the potato salad. I don’t want anything in here. I would like to speak to the manager.”
“I’m the manager.”
“Oh, hell. Oh well. I don’t want a sample of potato salad or of anything else here today or tomorrow or ever. I’ll never eat here again.”
Sad the poor service in my hood. And was a small sample of potato salad worth the cost of losing a sale of $4.99?
