Michaela Merz

The bank parties

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539487_web_r_k_b_by_rainer-sturm_pixelio-deIda was jobbing. This was the only way she could earn the money she needed for her studies. The restaurant, where she worked, was situated idyllically at the edge of town, with a breath-taking view, surrounded by woods, meadows and vegetable gardens. It was a popular excursion site for the  townspeople.

But it wasn’t exclusive. For the tenants of the restaurant sustainability and authenticity were more important than profit and luxury. All of this created a unique atmosphere, where at Sunday brunch scarcely two plates were identical, and where all leftovers were processed or given away. Ida loved her job, although it was really backbreaking. One joked and flirted with the guests, one laughed a lot and valued the mutual honesty.

 

 

On Friday a bank had booked a big event for the management. The pleasant but modest ambiance was spruced up with specially delivered decorations. At the wish and cost of the bank the peaceful restaurant was changed until it was no longer recognizable.

The waiters were reinforced with outsiders. That at a ratio of 1:5, so that half of them were bored. Shortly before the event the staff were also given instructions: laughing and jokes were forbidden and conversation with the guests to be limited to an absolute minimum.

Ida found the evening terrible. It was artificial, cold and impersonal. Topping it all was the bank’s instruction that all leftovers and the decorations were at the end of the event to be disposed of in the incinerators. The decoration Ida could accept. It didn’t belong there anyway. But when the boss ordered that baskets full of healthy, faultless peppers were to be incinerated, Ida refused. The boss only mumbled that a contract was a contract and she should be good enough to do what she was told. Ida did so.

But why the bank wanted to party in a peaceful, down to earth restaurant but not to give up its standards, was still a riddle for her.

Image source: Rainer Sturm / pixelio.de

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