Customers

Have we come to such a pass? There is a row of café proprietors on the pavement, darting heads to and fro and craning their necks into the road to see round the corner and get the first view of that rarest commodity - the customer. Should one appear - and not one of the obviously penniless ones mind - the row of gentlemen illustrate a surprising variety of sales' methods. One tries to put his arm round the customer's shoulder and to gently steer him past other doors and towards his own; a second affects disinterest, thereby hoping to give the impression that his food is so superior that you had better join the already crowded throng within, lest you miss out; another, a well-known figure in the community, appeals to the customer's loyalty - "You know me" he says, "we're intimates, you and I; how dare you step sideways like that? We go back a long way. And it's not as if my fare is not the best. I've been here the longest after all; you all know that, even you other café owners."

And should anyone get his hooks into one of these rare customers, Oh! you should see the struggles twisting these gentlemen's faces into Gothic shapes. What dilemmas! Does he leave the pavement with his one customer (doubtless a stingy one at that who only wants soup) and risk missing perhaps a two, or even a family? And if he does so, is he allowed to give in to his hopes and dash right out again for a time, before even turning on his cold ovens; and if he ever gets that far, then there is the question of how long can he leave the customer in his otherwise deserted hall of a café, for no-one knows how long a customer is prepared to wait for his fare while suffering hunger-pangs.