What about trans citizens?Lots bacon and sausage, if they are willing to eat the non pork products, yes
What about trans citizens?Lots bacon and sausage, if they are willing to eat the non pork products, yes
Running a whore house by hand till you can afford whores.There are worse ways to blow money but I can't think of many.
That yes or cartel errand boy.Running a whore house by hand till you can afford whores.
Running a whore house by hand till you can afford whores.
I once owned a bathroom in a restaurant.
Now, I know that there is a lot of embellishment that occurs on this group and I am aware that a small number of things are perhaps sheer fabrication, but I have a story to tell that is the absolute truth. Funniest damn thing that has ever happened to me.
A couple of weeks ago we decided to cruise out to Ryan's Steakhouse for dinner. It was a Wednesday night which means that macaroni and beef was on the hot bar, indeed the only night of the week that it is served. Wednesday night is also kid's night at Ryan's, complete with Dizzy the Clown wandering from table to table entertaining the little b******s. It may seem that the events about to be told have little connection to those two circumstances, but all will be clear in a moment.
We went through the line and placed our orders for the all-you-can-eat hot bar then sat down as far away from the front of the restaurant as possible in order to keep the density of kids down a bit. Then I started my move to the hot bar. Plate after plate of macaroni and beef were consumed that evening, I tell you -- in all, four heaping plates of the pseudo-Italian ambrosia were shoved into my belly. I was sated. Perhaps a bit too much, however.
I had not really been feeling well all day, what with a bit of gas and such. By the time I had eaten four overwhelmed plates of food, I was in real trouble. There was so much pressure on my diaphragm that I was having trouble breathing. At the same time, the downward pressure was building. At first, I thought it was only gas which could have been passed in batches right at the table without too much concern. Unfortunately, that was not to be. After a minute or so it was clear that I was dealing with explosive diarrhea. It's amazing how grease can make its way through your intestines far faster than the food which spawned the grease to begin with, but I digress...
I got up from the table and made my way to the bathroom. Upon entering, I saw two sinks immediately inside the door, two urinals just to the right of the sinks, and two toilet stalls against the back wall. One of them was a handicapped bathroom. Now, normally I would have gone to the handicapped stall since I like to stretch out a bit when I take a good (poo, but in this case, the door lock was broken and the only thing I hate worse than my wife telling me to stop cutting my toenails with a pair of diagonal wire cutters is having someone walk in on me while I am taking a (dump). I went to the normal stall.
In retrospect, I probably should have gone to the large, handicapped stall even though the door would not lock because that bit of time lost in making the stall switch proved to be a bit too long under the circumstances. By the time I had walked into the regular stall, the pressure on my a** was reaching Biblical proportions.
I began "The Move."
For those women who may be reading this, let me take a moment to explain "The Move." Men know exactly what their bowels are up to at any given second. And when the time comes to empty the cache, a sequence of physiological events occur that cannot be stopped under any circumstances. There is a move men make that involves simultaneously approaching the toilet, beginning the body turn to position ones a** toward said toilet, hooking ones fingers into ones waistline, and pulling down the pants while beginning the squat at the same time. It is a very fluid motion that, when performed properly, results in the flawless expulsion of (poo) at the exact same second that ones a** is properly placed on the toilet seat. Done properly, it even assures that the choad is properly inserted into the front rim of the toilet in the event that the pee stream lets loose at the same time; it is truly a picture of coordination rivaling that of a skilled ballet dancer.
(1/3)
While all the (pooing) was going on, the vomit was still on its way up. By the time I had actually collapsed on the toilet, my mouth had filled up with a goodly portion of the macaroni and beef I had just consumed. OK, so what does the human body instinctively do when vomiting? One bends over. So I bent over. I was still sitting on the toilet, though. Therefore, bending over resulted in me placing my head above my now slightly-opened legs, positioned in between my knees and waist. Also directly above my pants which were now pulled down to a point just midway between my knees and my ankles. Oh, did I mention that I was wearing not just pants, but sweat pants with elastic on the ankles.
In one mighty push, some three pounds of macaroni and beef, two or three Cokes, and a couple of Big, Fat Yeast Rolls were deposited in my pants...on the inside...with no ready exit at the bottom down by my feet.
In the next several seconds, there were a handful of farts, a couple of turds, and the event ended, yet I was now sitting there with my pants full of vomit, my back covered in (poo) that had bounced off the toilet, spattered on three ceramic-tiled walls to a height of about five feet, and still had enough force to come back at me, covering the back of my shirt with droplets of liquid (poo). All while thick (poo) was spread all over my a** in a ring curiously in the shape of a toilet seat.
And there was no (freaking) toilet paper.
What could I do but laugh. I must have sounded like a complete maniac to the guy who then wandered into the bathroom. He actually asked if I was OK since I was laughing so hard I must have sounded like I was crying hysterically. I calmed down just enough to ask him if he would get the manager. And told him to have the manager bring some toilet paper. When the manager walked in, he brought the toilet paper with him, but in no way was prepared for what happened next. I simply told him that there was no way I was going to explain what was happening in the stall, but that I needed several wet towels and I needed him to go ask my wife to come help me. I told him where we were sitting and he left. At that point, I think he was probably assuming that I had peed just a bit in my pants or something similarly benign.
About two minutes later, my wife came into the bathroom not knowing what was wrong and with a certain amount of worry in her voice. I explained to her (still laughing and having trouble getting out words) that I had a slight accident and needed her help. Knowing that I had experienced some close calls in the past, she probably assumed that I had laid down a small turd or something and just needed to bring the car around so we could bolt immediately. Until I asked her, I'm sure she had no idea that she was about to go across the street and purchase me new underwear, new socks, new pants, a new shirt, and (by that time due to considerable leakage around the elastic ankles thingies) new sneakers. And she then started to laugh herself since I was still laughing. She began to ask for an explanation as to what had happened when I promised her that I would tell her later, but that I just needed to handle damage control for the time being. She left.
The manager then came back in with a half-dozen wet towels and a few dry ones. I asked him to also bring a mop and bucket upon which he assured me that they would clean up anything that needed to be cleaned. Without giving him specific details, I explained that what was going on in that stall that night was far in excess of what I would expect anyone to deal with, what with most of the folks working at Ryan's making minimum wage of just slightly above. At that moment, I think it dawned on him exactly the gravity of the situation. Then that manager went so far above the call of duty that I will be eternally grateful for his actions. He hooked up a hose.
Fortunately, commercial bathrooms are constructed with tile walls and tile floors and have a drain in the middle of the room in order to make clean up easy. Fortunately, I was in a commercial bathroom. He hooked up the hose to the spigot located under the sink as I began cleaning myself up with the wet towels. Just as I was finishing, my wife got back with the new clothes and passed them into the stall, whereupon I stuffed the previously worn clothing into the plastic bag that came from the store, handing the bag to my wife. I finished cleaning myself off and carefully put on my new clothes, still stuck in the stall since I figured that it would be in bad taste to go out of the stall to get redressed in the event I happened to be standing there naked and some little kid walked in. At that point, I had only made a mess; I had not yet committed a felony and intended to keep it that way.
When I finished getting dressed, I picked up the hose and cleaned up the entire stall, washing down the remains toward the drain in the center of the room. I put down the hose and walked out of the bathroom. I had intended to go to the manager and thank him for all he had done, but when I walked out, three of the management staff were there to greet me with a standing ovation. I started laughing so hard that I thought I was going to throw up again, but managed to scurry out to the car where my wife was now waiting to pick me up by the front door.
The upshot of all this is that I strongly recommend eating dinner at Ryan's Steak House. They have, by far, the nicest management staff of any restaurant in which I have eaten.(3/3)
It builds character.
You can hire busty femalesWell, a lot to think about, some I already had, but others not so much
You can hire busty females
Of courseI assume the OP is really just looking for another cash business to avoid taxes...
Have I ever said anything bad about trans people? Paying for surgeries and playing women’s sports are the issues.What about trans citizens?
Of course
I’ve got a guy on call that ran one successfully for 40 plus years. I’m nervous, may wait a few months to see what happens with the election, economy .Have to be there every hour of every day because nobody will care about the end product as much as you.
Good luck.
I think if I was going to buy a restaurant it would need the be an already established place where the owners were looking to retire. I would want to work side by side with them for a few months to ensure I didn’t screw it up.
this is in Maryville Missouri. I have a second chiro office, and it’s a college townI've been to SW Iowa. Nobody should be opening a business down there.
Now, that being said, a mid-sized town might work for you. But you are going to have every Rotary Club member, Kiwannian, Chamber of Commerce looking for handouts from a start up business.
Also, you don't want to be the one trick pony in town if there are other establishments within driving distance
Thinking of opening one next year, just breakfast foods, open 6-1. Then opening on the weekend for evening hours near several bars, say from 6pm to 2 am. I have the location selected, no competition from noon fast food chain places, 16k population for 9 months a year. Too risky?
Thinking of opening one next year, just breakfast foods, open 6-1. Then opening on the weekend for evening hours near several bars, say from 6pm to 2 am. I have the location selected, no competition from noon fast food chain places, 16k population for 9 months a year. Too risky?
My op sucked, I’ll be open year round, population is larger 9 mountsit’s tough to make money in the restaurant business. Especially when you are open 9 months a year for college students, and have short hours.
You sound committed to this regardless of the advice you’re getting, so…good luck!My op sucked, I’ll be open year round, population is larger 9 mounts
I ran a KFC for absentee owner for several years. Just some random thoughts based on what I learned.
Make sure you can keep the place staffed. Only hire people with upbeat personalities.
Be present. Absentee is no way to run that type of restaurant.
Always keep the kitchen and front of house clean as hell. Windex the front door as often as it takes. Scrub kitchen and lobby floor every night with soap and water. Get a commercial grade wet vac to suck it all up.
Finish the restroom(s) such that they can be sprayed with a hose. So tile up to at least 6 feet on the walls, drain in floor. That’s the only way to get staff to keep it clean.
Don’t over- complicate the menu. Leads to waste.
Changing to cheaper, lower quality ingredients to increase margins rarely ends well. People want delicious food. Watch portion sizes…..most people don’t want gigantic portions. Better off having them pay extra for an appetizer, side or desert.
Yes! I can see it now: A "secret" menu of sausage...What about trans citizens?
Thinking I offer the manager/cook( I already have the guy in mind and ready) 15% profit sharingThis guy knows what he is talking about.
The only way I would go in on an endeavor is to have a business partner that has the same outlook. Plus, you really don't want to tie yourself down alone with the hours.
I've always wondered about the potential in an employee owned bar/diner. I think it has possibilities / incentives
I’ll make sure I seat the trans eating their sausage next to the Islamic folks. Then just observe. Hopefully the food is good enough no one caresYes! I can see it now: A "secret" menu of sausage...
I’ll make sure I seat the trans eating their sausage next to the Islamic folks. Then just observe. Hopefully the food is good enough no one cares