Day 3
We’d been hearing almost hourly of the other local restaurants shutting down. One by one the takeaway places were closing up, which meant that we were quickly becoming one of the few places still trading.
The Market Square seemed even more deserted than normal. Then the Takeaway tablet began chirruping.
We had set up designated areas for the drivers to collect the food, repurposing the buffet heat plates to keep the food warm. On my own out front – my waitress is a single mum and schools were shut – I made sure I stayed well away from the drivers, and that they had everything ready.
The sense of worry and tension was on all of us, including the drivers, conversations with them short and polite, mostly procedural.
By 130pm, we were doing ok for sales, at the time leading the area, which sounds good until I tell you that it was just slightly better than a normal lunch for us, and we have the lowest sales normally. This changed after lunch, as my sales drop off due to those people left in town finishing work and going home. With the pubs and restaurants shut, there is no reason to be in town, and the delivery area misses out many of the surrounding villages.
We got news after the rush that the bigwigs were meeting to discuss things that day, and that we would know by tomorrow what they would expect from us. Conversations between my colleagues speculated and ranted about why they have left it so late. We are at risk, after all!
It was Monday and Monday night has always been a quiet night for Salisbury, so much so that many restaurants use it as the day to take off – especially those that are a family concern. For us, we normally close after the early evening ‘rush’ which consists of a few tables. Tonight though they were absent, allowing the closedown duties to progress swiftly. Even the Deliveroo tablet was quiet.
We ran down the clock by collating the stock that is no longer be sellable- salad items mostly- in the new no-dine-in world. This was split between what we could donate and what the staff wanted.
And then it was time to depart. I had the next two days as my days off, so I said goodbye, wondering if I would see my colleagues again. I should stress that this was not because I feared the Virus would claim them – no one wants to think like that – no, it was more because we feared we may not reopen again.
Salisbury is a typical town/city centre in that it is struggling to keep businesses open in the high street, and my chain is among many finding it hard to profit where there is reduced footfall and high rents. Its remaining residents inside the city limits are not sufficient to maintain a reasonable evening trade for the oversaturated restaurant quarter, and the surrounding villagers are loath to make unnecessary trips to the city, scarred by a long history of traffic jams and a lack of attractions after the shops close.
As I drive home through the empty streets and along the eerily quiet roads, there is a distinct feeling that something is ending; but whether this was just my restaurant or a harbinger for society in general remained to be seen.
No responses yet