I promise that what I'm about to tell you is completely true. Some of these stories are funny. Some still make me angry. And some, make me sad.
The above is the original sentence to this post. In it, I detailed, sans specific names, some of the true events at the deli. But after sleeping on it, I've decided to severely amend my writing. I feel that while telling you about the everyday craziness of B.A.D. is therapy for me, it's completely unfair to the players who still live in Snyder and can't defend themselves.
So instead of giving the gorey details, here are the Cliff Notes version of some things that really happened.
The most benign might be the story of 'hicky boy.' He worked for us at the beginning. Originally, "Mando" was a customer who'd Skype with his girlfriend at our front, window table. Then, we hired him and he was fantastic. He never waited any tables, but he covered the floor like a ballerina.
Remember the girlfriend? Well, she finally came to Snyder. The employee asked for a couple days off. "Of course," we said.
He showed up for his first day back covered in hickies... huge bruises up and down both sides of his neck. To make matters worse, he was wearing our standard B.A.D. t-shirt at the time.
Then, we had the uniform destroying waitress. Again, this was benign but still unexpected. In this person's story, we gave her our initial B.A.D. t-shirt uniform. No big deal. Wear it. Keep it clean. We have more for other days.
Before we knew it, she started showing up with the sleeves cut off. Then, she'd added tassels. Then, she wore it tied just below her chest.
"Whoa! What's she doing," I asked Teresa.
"Not gonna happen here. I'll fix it."
The worker didn't like what she heard and walked out on a jam packed night.
Before or after 'Torn t-shirt girl' there was 'Stoner boy.' I'm pretty sure this kid smoked pot from waking to sleeping. Still, he was a good guy and did a pretty good job. But one day, there was a dark turn.
He showed up just out of it, kind of like he was sleep walking. With his eyes barely open, his head looked like it was attached with spaghetti. Something was completely different.
We operated with extremely hot panini grills at this time. We had sharp knives. This kid was in no shape. Meantime, we were packed.
I pulled this young man aside. Our conversation was:
"Hey... hey... hey... What are you on?"
"Nothing."
"B.S. What are you smoking?"
"I'm not smoking anything."
"You're wasted! What are you smoking."
"It doesn't smoke."
It's almost inevitable in the restaurant business for employees to not 'hook-up.' It happens. Sometimes it ends good. Sometimes it ends bad.
Two, top-shelf employees had a thing. But one night after drinking, they got into a fight.... in his truck while driving.
Both shared their version. Both showed us pictures of scratches and bruising. One quit. One didn't.
The one story that stands out the most happened in our kitchen. No one in the dining room could hear it, but the episode began during the lunch rush and exploded into explecatives with a still crowded dining room.
We had a long standing policy at B.A.D. regarding how the sandwiches were supposed to look and sound when cut in half.
But on this day, all our sourdough sandwiches were coming out less than perfect... too light... not toasted enough... one after another. Finally, I had to go into the kitchen and ask....
"Hey, what's up? All the sourdough sandwiches are coming out not done."
No answer.
"Hey! What's up?"
"What! You're F-ing color blind. You don't know what you're F-ing talking about. Get the F out of here. Get the F out!"
That employee was sent home, but returned the next day. We talked and worked things out. He had issues in his life.
The naughty nurse is a case of stubborn teenager meets Teresa. A young teen came to work for us. She was great... perfect, in fact. But after many months, she quit just to be a teenager. "Of course," we said. "Come back anytime."
She did, maybe a year later. But, she had 'blossomed.' And the rub was, she was proud of her 'blossoms.'
I gave this situation to T, who very subtly, very consistently and very often told the teen to change. Simply put, a medium sized body does not ever fit into an extra small outfit. The look just wasn't what we were serving.
Finally on Halloween, the worker showed up in a Naughty Nurse costume. Teresa took on the task again. "Go home, change and come back."
To her credit, the young lady did just that. Then the next morning, I found a handwritten note on our employee sign-in sheet. It read: "Last night was last night to work at B.A.D.... EVER!"
Those are some of the quirky issues we had at B.A.D. I'm sure I'll think of more to pass along. But the point is, we never expected the almost daily drama and crises that came with operating a small business.
Bill Robertson, Maybe next time, I'll write about the 'nose-ring boy,' the 'perpetual flirt guy,' the meat slicer accident, the 'this job is too stressful guy,' the 'I lost my paycheck girl,' the 'I'm sick again guy,' and the 'I'm getting out of jail in a few minutes. Can you give me a ride to work guy.'
Bill Robertson. I'm the old one on the right. Those are my boys, Jack & Joe. I love 'em more than they can count.
The Deli Blog-B.A.D. University
Believe it or not, we had a method to our madness at The Big Apple Deli. Our goal was pretty simple. I'd tell each new employee: "I want every customer who leaves here to say, 'The food was good. The atmosphere was fun. But I'm coming back because NO ONE'S ever kissed my ass like that.'" I'd apologize for my vulgarity, but I wanted to get my point across and in no uncertain terms.
To reach that point, every new hire got the nickel tour. We'd start at the front door. I'd literally say things like: "This is what we call the dining room. Here's our trash can. Check out the bathrooms. They're important. We always want them as clean as possible. We're on 26th street. The post office is behind the blue building. Etc, etc."
I'd explain that every time you hear the front door open, I want all employees on the floor to say "Hello, c'mon in!" I'd go on to tell them "Kinda like Cici's Pizza--just not as creepy or neurotic."
Then, I'd say, "I want every customer to feel at home like in "Cheers." That's when I'd get the look. There was not a single new hire who'd ever seen "Cheers." Not one. Still, I think I used that example for every new hire.
People got hired for a variety of positions; Kitchen, meat slicer, cook and waiter. And anyone hired to serve or who we thought had the potential to serve had to go to B.A.D. University.
The purpose for B.A.D. University was simple. We expected anyone working the floor to know their product. We expected any/all waiter(s) to be able to answer all questions regarding the menu, take the order in a well written way and not only wait on their tables but always be on the lookout for other tables who might be in want of something/anything.
The presumption being if our waiters knew their game then the customers would leave feeling their server was completely focused on them, their food and the reputation of the deli.
B.A.D. U. always started the same way. One employee and I sat the bar with lots of scrap paper. First I say, "We make sandwiches and burgers. We have a few sides & a few drinks plus beer or wine. The more you know, the more the customers thinks you care and the more they'll tip you and the more they'll enjoy their time here at the deli. Got it?"
We'd cover all our meats, cheeses and breads. We'd cover all of our sides and drinks. "We don't have Diet Dr. Pepper. You'll get asked a lot."
We'd cover what is corned beef, is our pepper jack cheese hot, what's in our deviled eggs, do we serve regular ranch and WE DON'T HAVE DIET DR. PEPPER.
The first task was to teach what I called our Cut n' Serve Sandwiches & Burgers. These were the ones that came the way they came like a Grilled Cheese, Ruben, Skinny Dipper, Hurt You Later Burger, The Duchaneaux Burger and more.
Once a server knew the Cut n' Serve, they knew to ask questions for any other sandwich or burger. For example, if you ordered a Ruben we wouldn't ask you anything. You could say you wanted a substitution, but we didn't ask. But if you wanted a Roast Beef sandwich, we asked what type of bread, any cheese and what type of condiments.
Here are some specific customer examples:
Grumpy, a.k.a. John DeLille, always ordered a Ruben. We didn't ask him anything more except what side and drink.
But Kathy Ball ordered a Rachel (Beef Pastrami, Sauerkraut, Swiss and 1,000 Island,) but she'd say "Sub mustard for the 1,000.
Jenny Wilson asked for a grilled cheese, it's a Cut n' Serve, so we didn't ask her anything more than what side and drink.
The Lily's, Troy and Triesta, usually split a Skinny Dipper, another Cut n' Serve... no questions.
Marvin Morrell liked our Tankwich. It's not a Cut n' Serve. So we asked questions. He hates lettuce. So NO LETTUCE. Although once, I gave him a bag of shredded lettuce as a joke.
Terry and Barbara Leatherwood each ordered Glendas (our second most popular sandwich.) She liked mustard. He liked mayonnaise or visa versa. I never could remember.
Jennifer Taylor always wanted a Ruben, usually a Cut n' Serve, but requested extra kraut and 1,000 on the side.
"No Tom Tommy" always got a Pig, not a Cut n' Serve. So, hold the tomatoes.
Chris and Lisa Bargas were always a wait and see. He always got the Glenda. Lisa kept us guessing except, don't mess with her iced tea.
Then there was Double Meat Durango Ted. The Durango was a Cut n' Serve, but Ted asked for double meat.
The Classic Interior Ladies (Lyn Lancaster, Brenda Billingsley and Patti Grimmett) called in three Albuquerque Turkeys. They liked them cold--not toasted. This is where we harped on knowing the customers.
Mitch from B's Beverage Barn liked his Yardbird, another Cut n' Serve. No questions necessary.
Adrienne Williams always ordered a Grilled Cheese with chips and a Dr Pepper and always on Tuesdays.
Ben Murphy generally said, "What's your special... O.K., I'll take it."
Dalton Walton always wanted our Popeye Salad (Spinach). Then he'd say, "It's too G-D big. Cut it in half." His dearly departed wife, Linda, would say, "Oh Dalton......" "What" he'd ask in between big bites. "He wants to know what I think."
This list and stories goes on and one, but the bottom line is each customer wanted what they wanted. Surprisingly, a lot of people do/did NOT like a pickle spear on the side.... even touching their food.
The ultimate hope for each B.A.D. grad was to know the menu like the back of their hand, but more importantly to know each customer.
I'm proud to say The Big Apple Deli received multiple Certificates of Excellence from TripAdvisor. Kudos to the student body.
Bill Robertson, I saw "No Tom Tommy" earlier today & played golf with "No Lettuce Marv". "Extra Kraut Jennifer" has three beautiful children. Ben's still a good friend. Good times.
To reach that point, every new hire got the nickel tour. We'd start at the front door. I'd literally say things like: "This is what we call the dining room. Here's our trash can. Check out the bathrooms. They're important. We always want them as clean as possible. We're on 26th street. The post office is behind the blue building. Etc, etc."
I'd explain that every time you hear the front door open, I want all employees on the floor to say "Hello, c'mon in!" I'd go on to tell them "Kinda like Cici's Pizza--just not as creepy or neurotic."
Then, I'd say, "I want every customer to feel at home like in "Cheers." That's when I'd get the look. There was not a single new hire who'd ever seen "Cheers." Not one. Still, I think I used that example for every new hire.
People got hired for a variety of positions; Kitchen, meat slicer, cook and waiter. And anyone hired to serve or who we thought had the potential to serve had to go to B.A.D. University.
The purpose for B.A.D. University was simple. We expected anyone working the floor to know their product. We expected any/all waiter(s) to be able to answer all questions regarding the menu, take the order in a well written way and not only wait on their tables but always be on the lookout for other tables who might be in want of something/anything.
The presumption being if our waiters knew their game then the customers would leave feeling their server was completely focused on them, their food and the reputation of the deli.
B.A.D. U. always started the same way. One employee and I sat the bar with lots of scrap paper. First I say, "We make sandwiches and burgers. We have a few sides & a few drinks plus beer or wine. The more you know, the more the customers thinks you care and the more they'll tip you and the more they'll enjoy their time here at the deli. Got it?"
We'd cover all our meats, cheeses and breads. We'd cover all of our sides and drinks. "We don't have Diet Dr. Pepper. You'll get asked a lot."
We'd cover what is corned beef, is our pepper jack cheese hot, what's in our deviled eggs, do we serve regular ranch and WE DON'T HAVE DIET DR. PEPPER.
The first task was to teach what I called our Cut n' Serve Sandwiches & Burgers. These were the ones that came the way they came like a Grilled Cheese, Ruben, Skinny Dipper, Hurt You Later Burger, The Duchaneaux Burger and more.
Once a server knew the Cut n' Serve, they knew to ask questions for any other sandwich or burger. For example, if you ordered a Ruben we wouldn't ask you anything. You could say you wanted a substitution, but we didn't ask. But if you wanted a Roast Beef sandwich, we asked what type of bread, any cheese and what type of condiments.
Here are some specific customer examples:
Grumpy, a.k.a. John DeLille, always ordered a Ruben. We didn't ask him anything more except what side and drink.
But Kathy Ball ordered a Rachel (Beef Pastrami, Sauerkraut, Swiss and 1,000 Island,) but she'd say "Sub mustard for the 1,000.
Jenny Wilson asked for a grilled cheese, it's a Cut n' Serve, so we didn't ask her anything more than what side and drink.
The Lily's, Troy and Triesta, usually split a Skinny Dipper, another Cut n' Serve... no questions.
Marvin Morrell liked our Tankwich. It's not a Cut n' Serve. So we asked questions. He hates lettuce. So NO LETTUCE. Although once, I gave him a bag of shredded lettuce as a joke.
Terry and Barbara Leatherwood each ordered Glendas (our second most popular sandwich.) She liked mustard. He liked mayonnaise or visa versa. I never could remember.
Jennifer Taylor always wanted a Ruben, usually a Cut n' Serve, but requested extra kraut and 1,000 on the side.
"No Tom Tommy" always got a Pig, not a Cut n' Serve. So, hold the tomatoes.
Chris and Lisa Bargas were always a wait and see. He always got the Glenda. Lisa kept us guessing except, don't mess with her iced tea.
Then there was Double Meat Durango Ted. The Durango was a Cut n' Serve, but Ted asked for double meat.
The Classic Interior Ladies (Lyn Lancaster, Brenda Billingsley and Patti Grimmett) called in three Albuquerque Turkeys. They liked them cold--not toasted. This is where we harped on knowing the customers.
Mitch from B's Beverage Barn liked his Yardbird, another Cut n' Serve. No questions necessary.
Adrienne Williams always ordered a Grilled Cheese with chips and a Dr Pepper and always on Tuesdays.
Ben Murphy generally said, "What's your special... O.K., I'll take it."
Dalton Walton always wanted our Popeye Salad (Spinach). Then he'd say, "It's too G-D big. Cut it in half." His dearly departed wife, Linda, would say, "Oh Dalton......" "What" he'd ask in between big bites. "He wants to know what I think."
This list and stories goes on and one, but the bottom line is each customer wanted what they wanted. Surprisingly, a lot of people do/did NOT like a pickle spear on the side.... even touching their food.
The ultimate hope for each B.A.D. grad was to know the menu like the back of their hand, but more importantly to know each customer.
I'm proud to say The Big Apple Deli received multiple Certificates of Excellence from TripAdvisor. Kudos to the student body.
Bill Robertson, I saw "No Tom Tommy" earlier today & played golf with "No Lettuce Marv". "Extra Kraut Jennifer" has three beautiful children. Ben's still a good friend. Good times.
The Deli Blog-The Good Ones
The old saying goes, Good Help is Hard to Find. Truer words were never spoken. We had no idea when going into the food business the aggravation we'd face when it came to hiring, firing, training and retaining employees.
Over the course of our eight year run, I suspect we had upwards of 75-100 employees. I never suspected that type of turnover. I'm torn whether to share some of our horror stories. I probably will soon, but I'm debating what good it'll do. The only summary I come to is... that you the reader will likely finish reading that blog with the exclamation.... OMG!
So, I'll tell you about the good ones for now. They met the following criteria everyday: 1) Always on time 2) Could find something to do 3) Tried to help others and 4) Team player. That's all we expected. Of the 75-100 previous B.A.D. employees, Teresa and I can think of seven who met those benchmarks. They are:
Brodie Calley
Martin Edwards
Ashley Jenkins
Marcos Rios
Robbin Smith
Alex Dreith
Pat McInerney
Brodie was one of our original B.A.D. guys. It was a long time ago, but I remember he was never late and he could do absolutely everything. He was 16 years old at the time and I was comfortable leaving him the keys. I think what impressed me the most was he was smart. He had goals. And, he was completely comfortable in his skin.
I remember visiting with Brodie during the interview process, but before I hired anyone. He had his boots up in a chair with a real 'I could sit here all day long' look on his face.
"Whatcha think," I asked.
"I'm wondering if I want to work here."
"Oh," thinking don't let the door hit you.
"I think I do."
Update: Brodie married last year. He has his degree from Texas Tech. He and his wife have returned to Scurry County. I always told him that he should be mayor of Snyder.
Martin might be the most honest, hard-working man I've ever met. If y'all don't know Martin from the deli, you might know him as the 'guy who walks everywhere in Snyder.' To say Martin and his wife, Rachel, have less than a few nickels to rub together is a tremendous understatement.
He and Rachel came in one day during lunch. Over the counter, I think I asked "What can we do for you?"
"I need a job," he said.
"Leave your name and number with Teresa."
The guy looked rough. We didn't really need anyone at that time. And, he hit me up for work during our lunch hour. As far as I was concerned, I wasn't very interested.
That evening, Teresa asked "did you call that man.... the guy who came in at lunch asking for a job?"
"No."
"I think you should. He seemed honest and really sincere."
One thing led to another, and Martin came to work at B.A.D. In fact, he was the last employee out the door after we closed.
Martin was the type who made it easier on everyone else and because he did, most everyone else took advantage of him.
His idea of on time was at least one hour early for work everyday. By the time all the others showed up, usually late, he'd already done all their pre-opening chores. He was also the type we could count on to never complain about staying late.
Staff wise tardiness to work became such an issue that I offered 'on-time' incentives. The last one was: Show up early to work, clock-in no more than 10-minutes early and we'll pay your hourly wage for every one of those minutes you're early.
Martin was the only employee in the year and a half of that incentive to ever get the 'early pay.' The only one!!!
Update: Martin's now working at another local restaurant. Rachel's been at United going on four years. They have a car, but only Rachel drives. Martin's a friend to us and many of his former B.A.D. customers.
Ashley's interview started with, "You may recognize me. I was homecoming queen at Snyder High."
I don't know if she'd waited tables before or just came from good family stock, but she hit the floor running. Nothing was too much trouble for Ashley. I saw her once wait on the entire dining room when the person who was supposed to be manager-on-duty called in sick.
She knew practically everyone in town, didn't gossip about them and treated all of them as special.
She graduated, went off to college but would return for school breaks and summer. We always breathed a little easier when we knew Ashley was working.
We had a saying when counting who was working the floor on any particular day. We'd count the individuals, but when we got to Ashley we'd say, 'she counts as two.'
Update: Ashley received her teaching degree from Texas Tech University. She now teaches at Snyder Christian School, recently engaged, and scheduled to marry this year.
Marcos was our 'singing waiter' and he was really, really good at doing both jobs simultaneously. Marcos started at the coffeehouse and then moved to the deli. He'd never waited tables, but you'd never guess it. He actually studied the menu! Wow! What a concept.
I don't know how Marcos started singing at the deli, but he soon became a regular at lunch. He'd wait tables, take the stage, wait tables, and take the stage. It was not uncommon to hear him holler out in mid-song: "Table three! Need anything? Is your tea okay?"
Marcos will tell you, He'll tell anybody that he's faced down his demons. We were indeed blessed to be part of that successful journey.
Update: Marcos is now a traveling singer/songwriter and film maker. If he's not in Snyder, he's in Austin. Check him out on Face book.
Robbin rose from very quiet coffeehouse barista to complete family friend and wonderful assistant. She's tackled every job from making espresso to payroll to the IRS. In a simple sentence: Robbin Smith saved our fannies. "Thank you" written in all caps and on any blackboard 1,000 times is not enough.
Update: Robbin's still with us working as our family's comptroller, friend, and voice of reason. She's also a dispatcher with the Scurry County Sheriff's Office. Such a calm voice.
Alex, the waiter with the "X" factor. I can't explain it. It's just "X" and Alex had it in spades. Alex worked for us while he attended WTC. I remember a consummate team player. Everyone liked Alex, but he never let that interfere with what we expected while he was on the clock. Even when he did venture beyond the typical waiter mode, like Karaoke night, he brought down the house.
Alex became known as "Sweet Caroline" man. He'd take the stage every Thursday Karaoke Night with his rendition of Neil Diamond's "Sweet Caroline." Before we knew it, customers were standing, cheering, and of course singing.... "So GOOD! So GOOD!" When he was done singing and the crowd done cheering, Alex would go back to work.
Update: Alex left B.A.D. and Snyder. He's joined the corporate word. He jetted off to SoCal for awhile. Now, he's back in the St. Louis area. Go Cards!
Finally, Pat. We called him Mr. Pat because he was 70+ years old. He started as a friend to Teresa and myself. Then, he became a regular afternoon customer. Then, I asked him, "Mr. Pat, would you come work for us a couple of times a week?"
"Doing what?"
"Just being you."
"Whatcha gonna pay me?"
"Whatcha want?"
"Two Guinness and $20 per shift. I can work Monday, Wednesday and Friday 11:00-1:00p."
"Hired!"
Mr. Pat was great for a lot of reasons but mostly because he gave a damn about people. He was already serving "Meals on Wheels" and driving the Scurry County Senior Center Bus. He cared. And because he was older, he treated men like gentlemen and women like ladies. He took care of people, young and old. He also had the wonderful ability to corral the younger staff and get them to take on projects they'd normally just walk on by without noticing.
He was ALL Irish and ALL Chicago. He loved his Bears and gave me constant grief about my Saints.
Update: Pat and his wife, Patsy, left Snyder for Olney, TX. Now, they're in Houston. We haven't seen them in awhile, but sure miss them.
So, those are the good ones. I guess 7 out of 75-100 isn't too bad. It's about 10%, right? A lot of others came close to making the 'good ones' list, but fell short for a variety of reasons. The thing T & I have noticed is that the "Good Help is Hard to Find" saying is applicable to more than just Snyder. We've traveled a lot. And many times, we've had to admit: "See, it's not just Snyder that has employment problems."
Bill Robertson, Thanks y'all! The others spiked my blood pressure, but we counted on each of you more than we can explain.
Over the course of our eight year run, I suspect we had upwards of 75-100 employees. I never suspected that type of turnover. I'm torn whether to share some of our horror stories. I probably will soon, but I'm debating what good it'll do. The only summary I come to is... that you the reader will likely finish reading that blog with the exclamation.... OMG!
So, I'll tell you about the good ones for now. They met the following criteria everyday: 1) Always on time 2) Could find something to do 3) Tried to help others and 4) Team player. That's all we expected. Of the 75-100 previous B.A.D. employees, Teresa and I can think of seven who met those benchmarks. They are:
Brodie Calley
Martin Edwards
Ashley Jenkins
Marcos Rios
Robbin Smith
Alex Dreith
Pat McInerney
Brodie was one of our original B.A.D. guys. It was a long time ago, but I remember he was never late and he could do absolutely everything. He was 16 years old at the time and I was comfortable leaving him the keys. I think what impressed me the most was he was smart. He had goals. And, he was completely comfortable in his skin.
I remember visiting with Brodie during the interview process, but before I hired anyone. He had his boots up in a chair with a real 'I could sit here all day long' look on his face.
"Whatcha think," I asked.
"I'm wondering if I want to work here."
"Oh," thinking don't let the door hit you.
"I think I do."
Update: Brodie married last year. He has his degree from Texas Tech. He and his wife have returned to Scurry County. I always told him that he should be mayor of Snyder.
Martin might be the most honest, hard-working man I've ever met. If y'all don't know Martin from the deli, you might know him as the 'guy who walks everywhere in Snyder.' To say Martin and his wife, Rachel, have less than a few nickels to rub together is a tremendous understatement.
He and Rachel came in one day during lunch. Over the counter, I think I asked "What can we do for you?"
"I need a job," he said.
"Leave your name and number with Teresa."
The guy looked rough. We didn't really need anyone at that time. And, he hit me up for work during our lunch hour. As far as I was concerned, I wasn't very interested.
That evening, Teresa asked "did you call that man.... the guy who came in at lunch asking for a job?"
"No."
"I think you should. He seemed honest and really sincere."
One thing led to another, and Martin came to work at B.A.D. In fact, he was the last employee out the door after we closed.
Martin was the type who made it easier on everyone else and because he did, most everyone else took advantage of him.
His idea of on time was at least one hour early for work everyday. By the time all the others showed up, usually late, he'd already done all their pre-opening chores. He was also the type we could count on to never complain about staying late.
Staff wise tardiness to work became such an issue that I offered 'on-time' incentives. The last one was: Show up early to work, clock-in no more than 10-minutes early and we'll pay your hourly wage for every one of those minutes you're early.
Martin was the only employee in the year and a half of that incentive to ever get the 'early pay.' The only one!!!
Update: Martin's now working at another local restaurant. Rachel's been at United going on four years. They have a car, but only Rachel drives. Martin's a friend to us and many of his former B.A.D. customers.
Ashley's interview started with, "You may recognize me. I was homecoming queen at Snyder High."
I don't know if she'd waited tables before or just came from good family stock, but she hit the floor running. Nothing was too much trouble for Ashley. I saw her once wait on the entire dining room when the person who was supposed to be manager-on-duty called in sick.
She knew practically everyone in town, didn't gossip about them and treated all of them as special.
She graduated, went off to college but would return for school breaks and summer. We always breathed a little easier when we knew Ashley was working.
We had a saying when counting who was working the floor on any particular day. We'd count the individuals, but when we got to Ashley we'd say, 'she counts as two.'
Update: Ashley received her teaching degree from Texas Tech University. She now teaches at Snyder Christian School, recently engaged, and scheduled to marry this year.
Marcos was our 'singing waiter' and he was really, really good at doing both jobs simultaneously. Marcos started at the coffeehouse and then moved to the deli. He'd never waited tables, but you'd never guess it. He actually studied the menu! Wow! What a concept.
I don't know how Marcos started singing at the deli, but he soon became a regular at lunch. He'd wait tables, take the stage, wait tables, and take the stage. It was not uncommon to hear him holler out in mid-song: "Table three! Need anything? Is your tea okay?"
Marcos will tell you, He'll tell anybody that he's faced down his demons. We were indeed blessed to be part of that successful journey.
Update: Marcos is now a traveling singer/songwriter and film maker. If he's not in Snyder, he's in Austin. Check him out on Face book.
Robbin rose from very quiet coffeehouse barista to complete family friend and wonderful assistant. She's tackled every job from making espresso to payroll to the IRS. In a simple sentence: Robbin Smith saved our fannies. "Thank you" written in all caps and on any blackboard 1,000 times is not enough.
Update: Robbin's still with us working as our family's comptroller, friend, and voice of reason. She's also a dispatcher with the Scurry County Sheriff's Office. Such a calm voice.
Alex, the waiter with the "X" factor. I can't explain it. It's just "X" and Alex had it in spades. Alex worked for us while he attended WTC. I remember a consummate team player. Everyone liked Alex, but he never let that interfere with what we expected while he was on the clock. Even when he did venture beyond the typical waiter mode, like Karaoke night, he brought down the house.
Alex became known as "Sweet Caroline" man. He'd take the stage every Thursday Karaoke Night with his rendition of Neil Diamond's "Sweet Caroline." Before we knew it, customers were standing, cheering, and of course singing.... "So GOOD! So GOOD!" When he was done singing and the crowd done cheering, Alex would go back to work.
Update: Alex left B.A.D. and Snyder. He's joined the corporate word. He jetted off to SoCal for awhile. Now, he's back in the St. Louis area. Go Cards!
Finally, Pat. We called him Mr. Pat because he was 70+ years old. He started as a friend to Teresa and myself. Then, he became a regular afternoon customer. Then, I asked him, "Mr. Pat, would you come work for us a couple of times a week?"
"Doing what?"
"Just being you."
"Whatcha gonna pay me?"
"Whatcha want?"
"Two Guinness and $20 per shift. I can work Monday, Wednesday and Friday 11:00-1:00p."
"Hired!"
Mr. Pat was great for a lot of reasons but mostly because he gave a damn about people. He was already serving "Meals on Wheels" and driving the Scurry County Senior Center Bus. He cared. And because he was older, he treated men like gentlemen and women like ladies. He took care of people, young and old. He also had the wonderful ability to corral the younger staff and get them to take on projects they'd normally just walk on by without noticing.
He was ALL Irish and ALL Chicago. He loved his Bears and gave me constant grief about my Saints.
Update: Pat and his wife, Patsy, left Snyder for Olney, TX. Now, they're in Houston. We haven't seen them in awhile, but sure miss them.
So, those are the good ones. I guess 7 out of 75-100 isn't too bad. It's about 10%, right? A lot of others came close to making the 'good ones' list, but fell short for a variety of reasons. The thing T & I have noticed is that the "Good Help is Hard to Find" saying is applicable to more than just Snyder. We've traveled a lot. And many times, we've had to admit: "See, it's not just Snyder that has employment problems."
Bill Robertson, Thanks y'all! The others spiked my blood pressure, but we counted on each of you more than we can explain.
The Deli Blog-Trivia
The old saying is: For every action there is a reaction. You might say that adage was the genesis for Tuesday Night Trivia at The Big Apple Deli. If not that saying, you could also say we were dying on the vine, especially on Tuesdays, and we needed something/anything to at least break even.
Tuesday Night Trivia began with my boys, Jack and Joe. They were visiting. We were talking. I was telling them that I needed an idea to boost business, especially on Tuesday nights.
"Trivia!" they both said at practically the same time.
"Trivia? You mean that type at Buffalo Wild Wings with the boxes and the TV monitors?"
"No. It's just different categories with about five questions," Jack said.
"There are teams. They can't use their phones," Joe followed up.
"Where I go, it's packed every Trivia night."
"We get there early just to get a table," Joe followed up again.
"How long does it last?"
"Usually about an hour," from Jack.
"Try five categories with five questions," Joe followed up again.
"What about a tie?"
"Teams have to predict their scores before hand. Closest to that point total without going over wins!" Joe led this time.
"Like the Price is Right?"
"We don't watch the Price is Right Dad," from Jack.
Thus, the birth of Tuesday Night Trivia at The Big Apple Deli. It started slow with only a few teams but at its peak, we had a standing room only crowd with 10 to 12 teams ranging from two or three members to teams of six, seven or eight. I'd make up the questions. Sometimes my friend "Magic Marvin" would offer a couple of categories. Our friends Toby and Stephanie Duchenaux would help. Stephanie and Teresa would keep score. Toby would bartend.
The categories and questions ran the gamut. Teresa gave me lots of her fifth grade books like: Presidents of the United States, The Planets of our Solar System and Women in U.S. History. Marvin contributed questions ranging from "Batman" to "Zorro", fun pop culture stuff. Others topics included: "Who am I?," sports, The Academy Awards, famous movie quotes and more.
It didn't take us long to get into a groove and push the envelope. Before we knew it, we'd play "name the next line." That's where I'd play a snippet of music, stop the music and ask; "What's the next line."
One week, I found an old CD of nursery rhyme songs. That proved challenging. Keep in mind most of our crowd was older and drinking beer.
One of our more techo challenging topics was decipher the beer top. Lone Star Beer puts a puzzle inside each of its bottle top lids. They put them all on their website. So, we configured a way to show the puzzles on our big screen, gave teams about 15 seconds to see each puzzle and then asked: "Can you solve the puzzle"?
One of my most memorable was on the topic of observation. The idea came to me in the days before trivia. I think one of our employees had come to me with....
"Hey Bill. My customers are asking where's our courthouse. Where is it?"
"Uh, really?"
"Yeah, they're from out of town and they like to see old courthouses. What should I tell them?"
"Seriously? You're from Snyder, right?"
"Yes and YES!"
"Ok. Turn around and look out our front windows. See that big building across the street?"
"Yes."
"That's the Scurry County Courthouse... our courthouse."
"No way!"
"Way."
That lack of observation or absolute stupidity, I'm not sure which, spawned my "Observation" category.
I asked questions like: "If you're standing at College and 37th street and facing north, what's the building behind Gill's Fried Chicken. But my favorite question was: "Name the price of a Big Mac within 10-cents." Only one team got it correct.
We got to know the teams like regulars, most of them were anyway. But many times, Tuesday Trivia would bring in people we'd never seen and they'd return but only for trivia.
We had "The Honey Badgers," made of Western Texas College faculty and administrators, "The Snow Monkeys," who were two good guys who gave just about everybody a run for their money and "The Saints and Sinners," led by a local minister who once I had to apologize for the topics. Plus, there were many, many more. By the way, the "Honey Badgers" were the only team to get the correct answer for the Big Mac question.
A fun game always comes with a prize. For many weeks, we felt obligated to offer gift certificates to the first, second and third place teams. Unfortunately, we found out that was costing us a fortune. So about mid-day in the life of trivia, we, with the help of Mike Thornton from WTC, created the B.A.D. Trivia Trophy. It was a giant question mark outlined in bling. Winner got their picture taken with the trophy and their team name on the trophy till the next week.
In the end, Tuesday Night Trivia at The Big Apple Deli lasted quite awhile, maybe a year or more. Time took it's toll, but we'll always be thankful for the many folks who took about an hour out of their week to come to B.A.D. and help us out.
Bill Robertson, an old orchestra conductor in Charleston, WVA once told me: "Trivia is just a young person's way of looking at history."
Tuesday Night Trivia began with my boys, Jack and Joe. They were visiting. We were talking. I was telling them that I needed an idea to boost business, especially on Tuesday nights.
"Trivia!" they both said at practically the same time.
"Trivia? You mean that type at Buffalo Wild Wings with the boxes and the TV monitors?"
"No. It's just different categories with about five questions," Jack said.
"There are teams. They can't use their phones," Joe followed up.
"Where I go, it's packed every Trivia night."
"We get there early just to get a table," Joe followed up again.
"How long does it last?"
"Usually about an hour," from Jack.
"Try five categories with five questions," Joe followed up again.
"What about a tie?"
"Teams have to predict their scores before hand. Closest to that point total without going over wins!" Joe led this time.
"Like the Price is Right?"
"We don't watch the Price is Right Dad," from Jack.
Thus, the birth of Tuesday Night Trivia at The Big Apple Deli. It started slow with only a few teams but at its peak, we had a standing room only crowd with 10 to 12 teams ranging from two or three members to teams of six, seven or eight. I'd make up the questions. Sometimes my friend "Magic Marvin" would offer a couple of categories. Our friends Toby and Stephanie Duchenaux would help. Stephanie and Teresa would keep score. Toby would bartend.
The categories and questions ran the gamut. Teresa gave me lots of her fifth grade books like: Presidents of the United States, The Planets of our Solar System and Women in U.S. History. Marvin contributed questions ranging from "Batman" to "Zorro", fun pop culture stuff. Others topics included: "Who am I?," sports, The Academy Awards, famous movie quotes and more.
It didn't take us long to get into a groove and push the envelope. Before we knew it, we'd play "name the next line." That's where I'd play a snippet of music, stop the music and ask; "What's the next line."
One week, I found an old CD of nursery rhyme songs. That proved challenging. Keep in mind most of our crowd was older and drinking beer.
One of our more techo challenging topics was decipher the beer top. Lone Star Beer puts a puzzle inside each of its bottle top lids. They put them all on their website. So, we configured a way to show the puzzles on our big screen, gave teams about 15 seconds to see each puzzle and then asked: "Can you solve the puzzle"?
One of my most memorable was on the topic of observation. The idea came to me in the days before trivia. I think one of our employees had come to me with....
"Hey Bill. My customers are asking where's our courthouse. Where is it?"
"Uh, really?"
"Yeah, they're from out of town and they like to see old courthouses. What should I tell them?"
"Seriously? You're from Snyder, right?"
"Yes and YES!"
"Ok. Turn around and look out our front windows. See that big building across the street?"
"Yes."
"That's the Scurry County Courthouse... our courthouse."
"No way!"
"Way."
That lack of observation or absolute stupidity, I'm not sure which, spawned my "Observation" category.
I asked questions like: "If you're standing at College and 37th street and facing north, what's the building behind Gill's Fried Chicken. But my favorite question was: "Name the price of a Big Mac within 10-cents." Only one team got it correct.
We got to know the teams like regulars, most of them were anyway. But many times, Tuesday Trivia would bring in people we'd never seen and they'd return but only for trivia.
We had "The Honey Badgers," made of Western Texas College faculty and administrators, "The Snow Monkeys," who were two good guys who gave just about everybody a run for their money and "The Saints and Sinners," led by a local minister who once I had to apologize for the topics. Plus, there were many, many more. By the way, the "Honey Badgers" were the only team to get the correct answer for the Big Mac question.
A fun game always comes with a prize. For many weeks, we felt obligated to offer gift certificates to the first, second and third place teams. Unfortunately, we found out that was costing us a fortune. So about mid-day in the life of trivia, we, with the help of Mike Thornton from WTC, created the B.A.D. Trivia Trophy. It was a giant question mark outlined in bling. Winner got their picture taken with the trophy and their team name on the trophy till the next week.
In the end, Tuesday Night Trivia at The Big Apple Deli lasted quite awhile, maybe a year or more. Time took it's toll, but we'll always be thankful for the many folks who took about an hour out of their week to come to B.A.D. and help us out.
Bill Robertson, an old orchestra conductor in Charleston, WVA once told me: "Trivia is just a young person's way of looking at history."
Spring Break 2018 Blog
Hi folks. I've been away from the keyboard for a bit to make time for Spring Break 2018 although we didn't go anywhere and it's not yet spring in west Texas.
Not that I'm complaining, but spring break these days resembles nothing of spring break(s) a few years ago to many years ago.
First of all, long gone are the days of cramming a dozen friends into a beat-up sedan, road tripping to the beach and then cramming your sedan of friends plus your buddy's sedan full of friends into a tiny motel room on the beach. Those were great times, but nowadays I'm pretty sure I'd rather go to the dentist.
Not so long gone are the days of cramming all my kids into our older model mini-van and heading to the beach or sometimes mountains. We had one of those Pontiac mini-vans. The kind with the long snout. It was called an APV, which we figured meant All Plastic Vehicle.
The kids were five through 12 ish and happy and excited to be getting out of town. We always had a good time and a great many memories, but each trip included pre and post vacation chaos and me almost always paralyzed over how were we going to pay for this planned fun and an almost debilitating fear of losing my children. I can't explain it.
Now, it's different. Teresa and I are both over our reckless road trip days and our kids have all outgrown the need for vacation chauffeurs. You might say T & I are now in the 'going to grandma's house' category to which I suspect most kids over 13ish say, "oh NO!" Thank goodness our little visitors still think Meme and Booger are worth a visit.
This year, Teresa's daughter, Ashton Patton, and her young family came our way. There's Ashton, her husband Bobby and the two kids, Carson and Avery. They visit quite a lot considering they live in Arizona and they mostly drive to see us.
They always amaze me a little. I think it's their consistent mellowness that I find both wonderful and confusing. It's wonderful because when they visit, it's not just about coming to grandma's house. It's also about going to grandpa's house, brother's house, half brother's house, aunt's house, uncle's house. Still, they show up... never rushed... stay, visit, eat, nap, play, eat some more, clean-up and go and come back and go and come back and go and come back.
It's their calmness that I'd call wonderful. It's that same calmness that I find confusing. Because folks, I'll be honest with you. I'd likely kill someone if I had to do as much traveling, visiting and moving around as the Patton family. But they do it and none of them ever flinch or appear rushed or makes us feel rushed.
For a little icing on the cake this spring break, we capped everything with a giant birthday party for our one year old granddaughter, Tillie Ann. She's Cody and Kayci's youngest. Mom and Dad threw her a giant festivus here at the ranch. We had kids of all sizes running and playing, laughing and crying. A good time was had by all.
Bill Robertson, I sewn enough oats and paid for enough vacations to enjoy being at grandma's house. I like grandma, a.k.a. Meme.
Not that I'm complaining, but spring break these days resembles nothing of spring break(s) a few years ago to many years ago.
First of all, long gone are the days of cramming a dozen friends into a beat-up sedan, road tripping to the beach and then cramming your sedan of friends plus your buddy's sedan full of friends into a tiny motel room on the beach. Those were great times, but nowadays I'm pretty sure I'd rather go to the dentist.
Not so long gone are the days of cramming all my kids into our older model mini-van and heading to the beach or sometimes mountains. We had one of those Pontiac mini-vans. The kind with the long snout. It was called an APV, which we figured meant All Plastic Vehicle.
The kids were five through 12 ish and happy and excited to be getting out of town. We always had a good time and a great many memories, but each trip included pre and post vacation chaos and me almost always paralyzed over how were we going to pay for this planned fun and an almost debilitating fear of losing my children. I can't explain it.
Now, it's different. Teresa and I are both over our reckless road trip days and our kids have all outgrown the need for vacation chauffeurs. You might say T & I are now in the 'going to grandma's house' category to which I suspect most kids over 13ish say, "oh NO!" Thank goodness our little visitors still think Meme and Booger are worth a visit.
This year, Teresa's daughter, Ashton Patton, and her young family came our way. There's Ashton, her husband Bobby and the two kids, Carson and Avery. They visit quite a lot considering they live in Arizona and they mostly drive to see us.
They always amaze me a little. I think it's their consistent mellowness that I find both wonderful and confusing. It's wonderful because when they visit, it's not just about coming to grandma's house. It's also about going to grandpa's house, brother's house, half brother's house, aunt's house, uncle's house. Still, they show up... never rushed... stay, visit, eat, nap, play, eat some more, clean-up and go and come back and go and come back and go and come back.
It's their calmness that I'd call wonderful. It's that same calmness that I find confusing. Because folks, I'll be honest with you. I'd likely kill someone if I had to do as much traveling, visiting and moving around as the Patton family. But they do it and none of them ever flinch or appear rushed or makes us feel rushed.
For a little icing on the cake this spring break, we capped everything with a giant birthday party for our one year old granddaughter, Tillie Ann. She's Cody and Kayci's youngest. Mom and Dad threw her a giant festivus here at the ranch. We had kids of all sizes running and playing, laughing and crying. A good time was had by all.
Bill Robertson, I sewn enough oats and paid for enough vacations to enjoy being at grandma's house. I like grandma, a.k.a. Meme.
The Deli-Blog #5 (Karaoke)
We started with Pandora. Then, we added live music. Then, we thought Karaoke would be a good idea. And, it was--for a short while at least.
Our Karaoke night began in the waning years of the deli but before we eliminated our night time hours. We needed a cash infusion. We thought we'd spend a little on a Karaoke D-J and make bank on the business. And, that's exactly what happened. Like anything new, our Thursday night sing-a-long started slow, but quickly drew to a packed house with some talented and some not so talented singers.
Our Master of Ceremonies was non other than Elvis, aka Mike McLeod. He'd sound check every Thursday night with the real Elvis' "You Gave Me A Mountain." To this day, that song, even sung by Snyder's favorite jeweler, still gives me chills.
Karaoke started on our outdoor stage. I think I sang the first song, "You Light Up My Life," to Teresa. I was terrible. Shortly after that first night, Karaoke graduated to our indoor stage and exploded as the place to be in Snyder on a Thursday night.
Like I said, we had some good performers. They were young and old. One of my favorite memories is of young Walker Wilson at age five singing at his dad's birthday party.
Probably the best performer was a surprise to all of us. Not because he was really good, but because no one in Snyder had seen him in years. His name is/was Lloyd.
Lloyd walked in out of the blue and took the stage. I was told he was a local guy, but left Snyder many years ago for life on the west coast. I guess Lloyd came back for a few weeks to see family and found us. He sang and dazzled the crowd with unexpected costumes and even Elvis type moves for about three weekends in a row and then poof... he was gone.
Besides Lloyd, there was the crowd pleasing Alex Dreith, son of Snyder's friend Mike Dreith. Alex was working at the deli at the time, but our policy was if you wanted to perform... perform.
Alex's golden nugget was "Sweet Caroline." He'd take to the stage, completely off key, but by the time he hit the chorus, the standing room only crowd would be on their feet singing along to "Sweet Caroline... Good times never seemed so good (SO GOOD! SO GOOD!)."
"Big A" unfortunately didn't last long at B.A.D. He had bigger plans and he was/is surely missed. We wish you well Alex. You had the "X" factor in customer service.
One of the good ones who later kind of wore us out because it was week, after week, after week was Big Juan with his rendition of the Los Lobos song ""Heaven," which begins with the declaration VAMANOS!
Big Juan sang each Thursday and always started with VA-MA-NOS! It was so loud the speakers cracked. Still, Juan came back into the boundaries of reasonable volume and really did a nice job on the rest of "Heaven."
I guess the wearing out part came from the same songs each week for many, many weeks. Some were pretty good the first 10 or 20 times but after that, we all kind of huddled behind the deli counter and just waited for the next singer.
Some singers though just weren't that good the first time or the second or the 15th time. In particular, an extra exhilarated grandmother gave us all the 'OMG, when's she gonna finish' vide. If her singing wasn't bad enough her bumping and grinding was a little out of everyone's comfort zone. And to add salt to the wound, she'd not only get up on stage multiple times throughout the night, but she'd also show up just about each Thursday. You could almost hear a collective "bless her heart" whispered throughout the audience. Still, we had to admire her spunk.
The deli's Thursday night Karaoke ran its course and ultimately died on the vine. Elvis, aka Mike, is still D-J'ing in the area and still operating his jewelry store in Snyder. Lil' Walker Wilson is now a sixth grader and quite the young man. Flamboyant Lloyd disappeared as quickly as he showed up. Big Juan had a heart attack but last I heard he was recovering. Alex joined the corporate ranks and I'm sure is on his way to the top of the heap. As for the spunky grandmother..... Well, bless her heart.
Bill Robertson, Karaoke was a money maker but Tuesday Night Trivia was an absolute mint. Pictures included.
Our Karaoke night began in the waning years of the deli but before we eliminated our night time hours. We needed a cash infusion. We thought we'd spend a little on a Karaoke D-J and make bank on the business. And, that's exactly what happened. Like anything new, our Thursday night sing-a-long started slow, but quickly drew to a packed house with some talented and some not so talented singers.
Our Master of Ceremonies was non other than Elvis, aka Mike McLeod. He'd sound check every Thursday night with the real Elvis' "You Gave Me A Mountain." To this day, that song, even sung by Snyder's favorite jeweler, still gives me chills.
Karaoke started on our outdoor stage. I think I sang the first song, "You Light Up My Life," to Teresa. I was terrible. Shortly after that first night, Karaoke graduated to our indoor stage and exploded as the place to be in Snyder on a Thursday night.
Like I said, we had some good performers. They were young and old. One of my favorite memories is of young Walker Wilson at age five singing at his dad's birthday party.
Probably the best performer was a surprise to all of us. Not because he was really good, but because no one in Snyder had seen him in years. His name is/was Lloyd.
Lloyd walked in out of the blue and took the stage. I was told he was a local guy, but left Snyder many years ago for life on the west coast. I guess Lloyd came back for a few weeks to see family and found us. He sang and dazzled the crowd with unexpected costumes and even Elvis type moves for about three weekends in a row and then poof... he was gone.
Besides Lloyd, there was the crowd pleasing Alex Dreith, son of Snyder's friend Mike Dreith. Alex was working at the deli at the time, but our policy was if you wanted to perform... perform.
Alex's golden nugget was "Sweet Caroline." He'd take to the stage, completely off key, but by the time he hit the chorus, the standing room only crowd would be on their feet singing along to "Sweet Caroline... Good times never seemed so good (SO GOOD! SO GOOD!)."
"Big A" unfortunately didn't last long at B.A.D. He had bigger plans and he was/is surely missed. We wish you well Alex. You had the "X" factor in customer service.
One of the good ones who later kind of wore us out because it was week, after week, after week was Big Juan with his rendition of the Los Lobos song ""Heaven," which begins with the declaration VAMANOS!
Big Juan sang each Thursday and always started with VA-MA-NOS! It was so loud the speakers cracked. Still, Juan came back into the boundaries of reasonable volume and really did a nice job on the rest of "Heaven."
I guess the wearing out part came from the same songs each week for many, many weeks. Some were pretty good the first 10 or 20 times but after that, we all kind of huddled behind the deli counter and just waited for the next singer.
Some singers though just weren't that good the first time or the second or the 15th time. In particular, an extra exhilarated grandmother gave us all the 'OMG, when's she gonna finish' vide. If her singing wasn't bad enough her bumping and grinding was a little out of everyone's comfort zone. And to add salt to the wound, she'd not only get up on stage multiple times throughout the night, but she'd also show up just about each Thursday. You could almost hear a collective "bless her heart" whispered throughout the audience. Still, we had to admire her spunk.
The deli's Thursday night Karaoke ran its course and ultimately died on the vine. Elvis, aka Mike, is still D-J'ing in the area and still operating his jewelry store in Snyder. Lil' Walker Wilson is now a sixth grader and quite the young man. Flamboyant Lloyd disappeared as quickly as he showed up. Big Juan had a heart attack but last I heard he was recovering. Alex joined the corporate ranks and I'm sure is on his way to the top of the heap. As for the spunky grandmother..... Well, bless her heart.
Bill Robertson, Karaoke was a money maker but Tuesday Night Trivia was an absolute mint. Pictures included.
The Deli-Blog #4 (Singing & Dancing at B.A.D.)
I definitely should've kept a daily journal of the deli's comings and goings. There are so many stories to tell you, but after being closed for almost two years--I'm struggling to know where to go.
One of the most important things to me when we started B.A.D. was the music. I wanted good old fashioned rock n' roll to continually waft over our customers. I'm 55 years old now. So when we began, I was in my late 40s and a hard core 70s and 80s rock kind of guy. So that's what I wanted playing without interruption.
First, we managed that with an iPad that mysteriously disappeared. Then, we went to Pandora. First, I went the cheap way. Then, we paid for a the advertise-less subscription. For diversity, the programmed channels ranged from rock n' roll to opera to show tunes to country rock. I really wanted our customers to tap their heels while they visited with us.
One thing that I insisted was, the music must be diverse. I never wanted too much of any genre. In particular, I didn't want too much country music. Sorry folks, but C&W's just not my thing. I even posted a big sign by our computer in the office that read:
"Don't touch the music! I like country but in small doses. This means you! Don't change my Pandora stations!"
Besides our 'canned' music, we offered a ton of live shows. The initial thought came from Teresa. She'd been to Lubbock to take her dad, Sam to the doctor, and said there was a fella playing the piano at Market Street. She said, "That was so nice." "Okay, let's try it," I said.
The acts ranged from hard rock to Texas songwriters. We had so many good bands thanks to a great booking agent out of Midland. A few of them definitely stand out.
The first group, whose name I can't recall, played seriously hard rock n' roll. Geez, it was loud. They played on our back patio. Besides the packed back area, folks were sitting in their truck beds just jamming to the tunes. I have no idea what the lyrics were but the crowd loved them. I remember the lead singer was about seven feet tall and worked at a sign shop in Sweetwater. I heard he got married. I remember thinking, geez I hope she's not short.
A group that I thought was great was the "Tone Pilots" out of San Angelo. They were older guys. They had real jobs. The lead singer used a remote amp and microphone. His name was Dan. He'd start on the inside stage and then walk outside on the sidewalk while singing and playing. But the icing on the cake was their blind saxophone player. "Geez, I hope he doesn't fall off the stage," I'd say to Teresa..
If he wasn't the best individual artist, then it was the banjo player who often showed up with Snyder's own Sydney Wright.
Another great pair was Matt and Michelle Ellis. I can't say enough great things about this duo. I met Matt and his young son, Richard, one morning at The Manhattan Coffeehouse. They were eating giant muffins.
"Good morning," who's your buddy?, I asked.
"This is Richard. Say hi buddy."
"Nice to meet you guys. I'm Bill."
"I'm Matt," I remember him saying all the while thinking this guy looks just like my son-in-law, Bobby Patton from Arizona.
I don't remember how one thing led to another, but first Matt began playing at the deli and then he asked if his wife could come sing too.
"Uh, sure, " I said. Then I think I asked, "is she any good."
Boy was I and the rest of Snyder in for a Surprise. Michelle joined Matt and "killed it!" The Matt and Michelle duo played the deli so many times and always drew a huge crowd. They've since moved on and we dearly miss them.
But if I had to pick one singer who I'd always go back to, it'd be my friend Marcos Rios. Marcos fell into our laps. I think it was a GOD thing for both of us.
Marcos was working at the coffeehouse. We were short handed. He was bored and needed to stay busy. Later, I would learn he was escaping some demons. But all I knew was, he was willing and able... a warm body. Turns out, he was absolutely great!
Marcos took to waiting tables like a duck to water. He actually studied the menu, asked for advise on how to sell. He always walked to work. He never showed up late. I remember, he always apologized for what he apparently felt were shortcomings. I wish I'd told him, breathe. He was definitely a fast kind of guy.
Anyway, I can't remember how it came about that Marcos began singing at B.A.D. I wish I could. But as I remember it, he said he could sing. I said "you wanna sing during lunch on Wednesdays while you wait tables"? And he said, "sure."
We were all BLOWN AWAY. He covered everything. I think now he writes his own music. But then, he sang everything from Elvis to Prince and good too!
My favorite memory is from a random Wednesday when Marcos would not only wait tables but also take the stage from 12:00-1:00pm. On this particular day, we were busy. Marcos had a full section of tables. Still, he took the stage.
I don't remember how his set began or how far he was into it, but I'll never forget this.... in the middle of a song, still strumming his guitar... Marcos sang into the microphone:
"Table three! How ya doin? Need anything! Want more tea? I'll be right there."
Here was this guy in big round glasses singing on stage, covering the busiest section of tables because he was our 'go-to' waiter and still checking on his customers. Way to go Marcos.
Since his days at B.A.D., I think Marcos has extinguished his demons and conquered his dreams. And that's the GOD part for us. Rock on Marcos!
We had a lot of fun with music at the deli. Like I told my mother, 'I like music and I like to play it loud.' I remember that she winced a bit, pursed her lips and gave me a 'hmph' look. Still, she loved it when we played Sinatra. Jim Lionberger the retired game warden sang Sinatra. Mel Torme and Dean Martin... and loud too. That's when she gave me a thumbs up.
Bill Robertson, I could tell you so many ugly stories but it's so much nicer for me to remember the good guys.
One of the most important things to me when we started B.A.D. was the music. I wanted good old fashioned rock n' roll to continually waft over our customers. I'm 55 years old now. So when we began, I was in my late 40s and a hard core 70s and 80s rock kind of guy. So that's what I wanted playing without interruption.
First, we managed that with an iPad that mysteriously disappeared. Then, we went to Pandora. First, I went the cheap way. Then, we paid for a the advertise-less subscription. For diversity, the programmed channels ranged from rock n' roll to opera to show tunes to country rock. I really wanted our customers to tap their heels while they visited with us.
One thing that I insisted was, the music must be diverse. I never wanted too much of any genre. In particular, I didn't want too much country music. Sorry folks, but C&W's just not my thing. I even posted a big sign by our computer in the office that read:
"Don't touch the music! I like country but in small doses. This means you! Don't change my Pandora stations!"
Besides our 'canned' music, we offered a ton of live shows. The initial thought came from Teresa. She'd been to Lubbock to take her dad, Sam to the doctor, and said there was a fella playing the piano at Market Street. She said, "That was so nice." "Okay, let's try it," I said.
The acts ranged from hard rock to Texas songwriters. We had so many good bands thanks to a great booking agent out of Midland. A few of them definitely stand out.
The first group, whose name I can't recall, played seriously hard rock n' roll. Geez, it was loud. They played on our back patio. Besides the packed back area, folks were sitting in their truck beds just jamming to the tunes. I have no idea what the lyrics were but the crowd loved them. I remember the lead singer was about seven feet tall and worked at a sign shop in Sweetwater. I heard he got married. I remember thinking, geez I hope she's not short.
A group that I thought was great was the "Tone Pilots" out of San Angelo. They were older guys. They had real jobs. The lead singer used a remote amp and microphone. His name was Dan. He'd start on the inside stage and then walk outside on the sidewalk while singing and playing. But the icing on the cake was their blind saxophone player. "Geez, I hope he doesn't fall off the stage," I'd say to Teresa..
If he wasn't the best individual artist, then it was the banjo player who often showed up with Snyder's own Sydney Wright.
Another great pair was Matt and Michelle Ellis. I can't say enough great things about this duo. I met Matt and his young son, Richard, one morning at The Manhattan Coffeehouse. They were eating giant muffins.
"Good morning," who's your buddy?, I asked.
"This is Richard. Say hi buddy."
"Nice to meet you guys. I'm Bill."
"I'm Matt," I remember him saying all the while thinking this guy looks just like my son-in-law, Bobby Patton from Arizona.
I don't remember how one thing led to another, but first Matt began playing at the deli and then he asked if his wife could come sing too.
"Uh, sure, " I said. Then I think I asked, "is she any good."
Boy was I and the rest of Snyder in for a Surprise. Michelle joined Matt and "killed it!" The Matt and Michelle duo played the deli so many times and always drew a huge crowd. They've since moved on and we dearly miss them.
But if I had to pick one singer who I'd always go back to, it'd be my friend Marcos Rios. Marcos fell into our laps. I think it was a GOD thing for both of us.
Marcos was working at the coffeehouse. We were short handed. He was bored and needed to stay busy. Later, I would learn he was escaping some demons. But all I knew was, he was willing and able... a warm body. Turns out, he was absolutely great!
Marcos took to waiting tables like a duck to water. He actually studied the menu, asked for advise on how to sell. He always walked to work. He never showed up late. I remember, he always apologized for what he apparently felt were shortcomings. I wish I'd told him, breathe. He was definitely a fast kind of guy.
Anyway, I can't remember how it came about that Marcos began singing at B.A.D. I wish I could. But as I remember it, he said he could sing. I said "you wanna sing during lunch on Wednesdays while you wait tables"? And he said, "sure."
We were all BLOWN AWAY. He covered everything. I think now he writes his own music. But then, he sang everything from Elvis to Prince and good too!
My favorite memory is from a random Wednesday when Marcos would not only wait tables but also take the stage from 12:00-1:00pm. On this particular day, we were busy. Marcos had a full section of tables. Still, he took the stage.
I don't remember how his set began or how far he was into it, but I'll never forget this.... in the middle of a song, still strumming his guitar... Marcos sang into the microphone:
"Table three! How ya doin? Need anything! Want more tea? I'll be right there."
Here was this guy in big round glasses singing on stage, covering the busiest section of tables because he was our 'go-to' waiter and still checking on his customers. Way to go Marcos.
Since his days at B.A.D., I think Marcos has extinguished his demons and conquered his dreams. And that's the GOD part for us. Rock on Marcos!
We had a lot of fun with music at the deli. Like I told my mother, 'I like music and I like to play it loud.' I remember that she winced a bit, pursed her lips and gave me a 'hmph' look. Still, she loved it when we played Sinatra. Jim Lionberger the retired game warden sang Sinatra. Mel Torme and Dean Martin... and loud too. That's when she gave me a thumbs up.
Bill Robertson, I could tell you so many ugly stories but it's so much nicer for me to remember the good guys.
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