Day 105
The fire is lit, for the first time in one hundred and six days. The pub is sparkling, well as sparkling as the Rod and Line can be, for a spit and sawdust, dogs and wellies type of joint. The staff are sitting around, feeling pleased with their achievements, enjoying each other’s company and testing the liquid from the newly tapped barrels of beer settling in the cellar. It has been a long time, and everyone is raring to get back to work. We all know that it is going to be a long summer, not everyone has come back and for all the excitement there is a little apprehension about exactly what we are going to be able to cope with when we open. There is a positivity that I haven’t seen in this lot for a while and its a great leveller watching them throw ideas around as if they were paper airplanes with secret motors. Suddenly I realise I am proud of the way they are assuming control of all those future unknown anomalies. Rachael and I share a few words about our interviewing process and how we feel really pleased with our new appointments, while Ollie just looks like he needs a haircut and a good feed. Someone yawns and its catching , so we quickly fold up and retire for an early night, with the anticipation of a busy day tomorrow.
There are always early adopters. They are not always reflective or indeed indicative of a normal customer, if there is such a person, but they tend to come out and invest in things before everyone else. I haven’t said anything to the guys, but I am a bit worried and I sit alone for a while after they have left considering the various scenarios that could unwind over the next few days. What if people don’t come out. Just because we are reopening, it doesn’t necessarily mean people will rush to the door. I remember the run up to the lock down, and the virtual emptiness we injured for a few days before the government confirmed we would close, and I hope that people aren’t still frightened about returning to the real world – albeit with a few new rules of its own. We have taken the decision to do everything from the word go, or at least I have. I’ve taken the line that its better to be safe than sorry, also if we start in the way we may eventually need to go on we won’t have to keep changing systems and confusing people. That might have led to a slight overkill in the screens and barriers, but we can always take them away. As a result, I feel over the last few days I have turned into the hotel inspector from hell. I have ranted, pointed at health and safety policies, quizzed staff on where they are kept, what they say and how they translate to the way we deal with customers. Most of them looked to frightened not to know the answer, which was not really my intention but if it works why worry about it at this stage. We invested, probably prudently in new benches, and I have wondered around with a tape measure, like someone with a unnatural infatuation for detail, shouting things like ’one meter to here’, and ‘move that to the left’, or ’remove that chair, take away that table’. I am happy, but less than happy our lovely local constabulary decided to leave it until this morning to issue their advice/guidance/expectations of us when we reopen. I don’t like to be underprepared, so in this case I’ve anticipated where the gaps will be and already filled them, yet I file this away as something to complain about at a later date.
I take a last walk around the new installations of plastic, the perspex screens look clean and bright, a contrast to husbands own invention, Harris fencing panels, wrapped in hardcore polly tunnel plastic. The less said about them, the better. Rod and Line meet 2020 I say to the new menus, which are now simply QR codes on the walls, I hope our customers can use their mobile phones. Will came good in the end and the signage looks fab, and its in our brand colours for once. I take one last look, and turn out the light.
With massive thanks to Will at www.rapid graphics.co.uk