Slaves to Dumplings

In a testament to the fact that we slaves to our dumplings, our birthdays are coming up and we can't go away for fear of letting our customers down. This is a gross exaggeration, of course, but great for dramatic effect and a good excuse to whine.

Even still, we've missed a day at each market, and heard all about it upon our return. At the big city market, we couldn't make it and some of our regular customers told us they came and were disappointed we weren't there. One family said they had out of town visitors and brought them over to get dumplings and were shot down in flames. They even throw in how their kids were bummed. Ouch!

At the local market, one woman was having a dinner party and wanted to bring dumplings for her guests and was also denied because we were sick and couldn't make it.

Now don't get me wrong, wars are not won and lost because of our dumplings, and there are plenty of great vendors and good food offerings at the market, but we somehow feel an obligation to our customers, even in lieu of the fact that we have to be there each week and they can come whenever they choose. We nonetheless appreciate our customers and the fact that they come back for more.

That's what life in the service industry is all about, isn't it? The question is, what the heck are we doing here?

Ah, life's big questions often torment us, but that doesn't stop us from searching for the answers.

Until the next time, thanks for reading, and thanks to ramzi hashisho for the pic.