Raising the bar
"Go forth Mr. Crab" he said, "go forth into the highways and byways and do some good old market research on the current state of the forecourt/service station food offer". "Bring me back tales of dodgy sausage rolls, skimpy salads and soggy sandwiches, not to mention the ubiquitous cardboard croissant" he chuckled and then suddenly, gravely he added "But seriously Crab off you go, and don't come back until you have an intimate knowledge of food on the road. I do not want to see you till Independence Day, is that clear?" I stuck out my hand for the proffered banknotes muttering "Yes Sir" and tried to keep my excitement under control. Out on the road I thought to myself Finally I was getting away from the sheer unadulterated boredom of the complaints department cellar. To eat food, no less and to spend the bosses money at the same time to boot! Now that's what i call work. Bring it on.
So I just got back. Two and a half kilos heavier and with a new respect for the bosses knowledge of the service station food offer.
The boss loves his food. But even if it's a fine restaurant he expects value for money. It's not enough for the boss to get 5 star food unless it has a portion of love in the preparation.
"A dash of love brings out the real true flavour of the dish Mr. Crab" he exclaimed as I presented the spreadsheet of results which I'd compiled on my culinary sortie. I couldn't help but think that no spreadsheet could possibly portray the sensational awfulness of my forays into forecourt food but the boss read silently. "Crab" he said " it's time to raise the bar ".
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