This is the post I’ve avoided writing for seven months.
I lost my restaurant.
No, I didn’t misplace it. It’s stationary. If it were a food truck, that might make sense, like I parked it somewhere and now I can’t find it. I’m a known drunkard, so it’s not that far-fetched. Plus, I make stupid jokes to keep from crying.
But no, I lost my restaurant in that I had to make the decision to shut it down permanently. It’s not all that funny. I had seen other people lose their businesses before, and that was fucking hilarious. But this time, it happened to ME, which was significantly less funny.
I own a restaurant in Washington, DC. We’re situated near
the Smithsonian museums, the FBI headquarters, and lots of other federal office
buildings. As you might imagine, we’ve been a little slower than ideal lately.
Why is it slower than usual?
I told my team that neither their service nor their food was
at fault for the slowdown. It’s not competition from other restaurants or food
trucks. It can’t be the weather, nearby construction, or the homeless people
who ask our customers for money at the front door. While any and all of those
issues would be worth an in-depth, intellectual investigation, I told my team that
none of those are important.
We’re only slower than normal because of pigeons.