The owners really didn’t want to answer the question of what their restaurant had been like, before 1955.
“We have a good place,” said the man behind the counter. “You try our souvlaki! Our fish and chips! Our burgers! Best you ever tasted!”
“Yeah,” I said. “But I heard rumours. This place was famous during the Korean War—”
“That not us!” the man cried. “My father bought this place out in 1955. Clean place up. Make it respectable.”
“And reputable,” I added.
“Yes, that too!”
“But,” I pressed. “What did he have to clean up? I mean, most places advertise themselves as being established on a certain year, or proudly serving you since a certain year. Your sign suggests a bit of a history—”
“No history! Just good food! Now try our souvlaki or get out!”
I had to admit, it was a pretty good souvlaki.
I never got an answer to my question. But upon leaving the establishment, my notebook in my pocket, I couldn’t help but notice that there was a barbershop right beside the restaurant. And there was a sign on its window.
It read: “Zero workplace accidents since 1955.”
Good thing I didn’t have the meat pie.