Roll-up Westsiders – Pete is in the house!

Pete when did making a reservation at a restaurant become such a commitment? First they wanted my phone number, then my credit card number, then they called me twice – once on the day of booking and again 4 hours out from our arrival. They also emailed me, both before and after the booking. I felt emotionally drained about this whole event by the time I turned up to the place after all that, I honestly felt like I should have been congratulated! So much doubt and lack of trust! (p.s. and the joint sucked a bit, can I name them?)

Travis, West Footscray (via Facebook)

Oh here we go, a guy wants a parade for doing something he said he would. Prefer a medal or a chest to pin it on? And you want to name them? Why would we name them? We’re not naming you! Oh wait, yes we are, OK but we’re still not naming them, there’s lots of guys named Travis out there, but how many restaurants called Maison de Cheval?

Pete I have a problem with phones on the train. I’m watching them all, I get that they’re engrossed, but how about looking up occasionally to make sure there’s no one in need of a seat?

Jack, West Footscray (via Facebook)

Jack you clearly do not have to sit for hours each day on public transport – it can be a lonely and soul destroying existence. But with a phone you have the world at your fingertips! Why, it’s like carrying a pocket Encyclopedia Britannica! You can watch the great migration of the Serengeti wildebeest in real-time, brush up on your micro-economics, or even learn Swahili. Or you could just scroll through Facebook, catch up on episodes of Love Island UK, or play Candy Crush! Jack I can feel your judgement from here!

Hi Pete, this one’s more of a lesson really than anything else. I had to fly to Sydney for a crucial meeting with our biggest client, a bit annoying but hey, when it’s important, you do it. The only hassle with the flight was this idiotic person spilled a hot coffee on my jacket as they were trying to cram their ridiculously over-sized “hand luggage” into the overhead compartments. They just looked at the mess and didn’t even apologise, just sat down. To say I was stunned was an under-statement, but I somehow managed to suppress the need to abuse this person and instead took the high road. I smiled and said “Don’t worry about it, it’s fine” Not that they responded anyway. If there was a nice guy award I should have won it right there and then (and they get the jerk award). Anyway when I finally got to the office and cleaned myself up for the meeting, guess who walks in? Yes, the moron from the plane. Turns out that; a) they were the key relationship in a major partnership with us and b) their dog died that morning and they had to rush off to the airport. If ever I was glad I held my tongue, that was it!

Lachie, Altona (via Facebook)

Ha – another guy wanting a medal for doing the right thing! But frankly, I don’t know what to add to that story .A lesson in patience, perseverance and gratitude. Hey – do you want a job at The Westsider?



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