Aydin Reyhan
The Family Business
In 1993, my father purchased what would turn out to be his most successful business ever, Maria’s Restaurant and Pizzeria. He began with the goal of turning an ugly place with an unfavorable style into something that would fit his talent perfectly. It took some time, but after 18 years, it is safe to say that it is truly a beautiful, remarkable, and delectable place to eat.
“Aydin! I need two cheese pies and an order of garlic knots to go, pronto,” my mother ordered.
“What the fuck!? I just got here. I don’t want to make that shit now. I don’t even want to be here,” I whined back.
It was one of those days in mid 2011 when I let everyone around me know--including the observing customers--I simply didn’t want to be there. I know it’s disrespectful to curse when speaking to parents, but sometimes it just slips out, and I chose not control my urge.
“Aydin! Don’t make me tell your father,” she threatened.
“Go ahead! I don’t give a rat’s ass,” I rudely replied.
Don’t get me wrong, I love my parents more than anything and anyone, but at Maria’s, I tend to lose myself. After a long day at school, going into the store to finish off the second half of my day by doing something I absolutely hate annoys me. The food, personnel, and even most of the customers are a delight, but this beast inside me is begging to escape so it can cause havoc. Battling with it at work slows me down.
My father removed the bar that used to cover the wall in between the waitress station and the pizza oven. He decided he did not want to acquire a liquor license since he doesn’t like dealing with drunkards. The waitress station is where the waitresses have access to everything they need to serve their customers such cheese, pepper, utensils, napkins, and drinking glasses. There is also a phone hanging on the wall so orders may be taken when a customer calls.
My father brought yet another pizza/Italian cuisine talent into the town of Scotch Plains. There are two other pizzeria/restaurants that have been there well before we arrived. However, our business still built up to be the success that it is today. We like to thank God for that.
In 2006, while my mother was away with my siblings in Turkey visiting family for the summer, my father decided that it was time to sell the restaurant. He was fed up with depending on the same customers to come in and allow him to make a living. When most of the regulars stopped coming in, he let go of his most prized possession, Maria’s.
After selling, he took a 7 month break from working. It was refreshing for him yes, but it also drove him crazy not going into work every single day. For me, it was decent at first but then I became scared about not having money in my pocket. Therefore, I was hired at Dunkin Donuts where I have worked on and off for two years.
My father and I worked at two different places he took over in Wyckoff and Rochelle Park up in northern Jersey. The only fun fact about those places was the long, soothing drives we took to get there and back. They were truly awful experiences as we barely had any regulars at either location that spent more than five dollars.
“Excuse me, this is not what I ordered,” a customer complained when he received a chicken parm instead of a chicken francese.
“Oh, terribly sorry sir. Let me fix that ASAP,” I replied while tightening my lips as I walked towards the kitchen.
When customers complain, I get extremely pissed off. Its bad enough I have to be there to serve them, now I have to listen to them bitch and moan? I don’t think so.
“Edgar, eso hombre no quiere chicken parm, quiere francese. Esta rompiendo mis bolas para nada,” I stated to our chef at the time in 2009. Roughly translated, it means: Edgar, this guy doesn’t want a chicken parm, he wants a francese. He’s breaking my balls for nothing. I tended to bitch and moan myself for the smallest things. I simply hated being there at times.
“Here you go boss, enjoy. Sorry about the mix up. Have a good weekend, you fucking prick,” I mumbled under my breath. It is rude to curse off customers to their faces so when I get angry, I talk to myself, a lot.
However, one thing I absolutely love about the restaurant is how many beautiful girls enter the premises. I get to talk with them as well as check them out. Of course I don’t take things too far being that it is a business, but still, it’s a fun part of being there.
In 2009, the man who purchased the place from my father gave him a call. He admitted that he was going nowhere but downhill and that he was wondering if my father would take it back. My mother, who was praying everyday for the past three years, convinced him to do so. My father gladly accepted.
The personnel along with my parents did their best to spruce the place up a bit for the grand re-opening. The date was set for July 7th, 2009, but little did I know that there was a surprise waiting for me the day before.
A friend and I were driving to a soccer game on July 6th and while waiting at a red light, my attention was not on the road but towards something in the back seat. Next thing I knew, I had rear-ended a 2001 Toyota Camry being driven by an Oriental man. It was the first ever fender bender I was in that was completely my fault. It is the day before we open up Maria’s after a 3 year break, and a $500 dollar accident occurs thanks to yours truly. Bad luck anyone?
My father agrees to pay the fee but on opening day, he let me have it.
“How fucking stupid can you get? You need to drive right,” my loving father informed me. “What the fuck did I do to deserve such a shitty son?”
Regardless, I love my father to the fullest. Not just because I live under his roof, but because I am his son. It’s absolutely okay that he got pissed off at me for doing something so pointless and stupid. It was one of those things that shouldn’t happen but does anyways just to teach me a lesson. Well thanks karma, I certainly learned it.
That’s enough with the negativity. It’s time to discuss the good times. No matter how bad it is at the store, working with my parents was fun at times.
“I just called to say...I love you…my darling,” my father happily sang.
“Tomorrow...could be rain...or could be snow...” I happily joined in.
My father and I would sometimes randomly begin singing when we were bored or needed to calm down. We would even make jokes with the customers.
“Boy, the apple doesn’t fall too far from the tree, does it?” a customer chuckled while asking.
“No, I guess not,” I smiled back. It was hard not to since my personality is almost exactly like my father’s. I love him dearly and it sometimes tears me up inside that I hate the place in general. The reason is simple: family. Having a family business is the perfect way to pass time with one another. Since my parents are barely ever home, the chance to work with them there is worth it. However, it’s been long enough.
Every time I get pissed off at the store, I always remember the accident because it made me believe that Maria’s was going to bring us bad luck. It may have put food on our table and clothing on our backs, but it took a lot of energy from us to do so.
One thing I am absolutely grateful for is that at Maria’s, I get to spend quality time with my family. If I didn’t work there, I would barely ever see my parents. While there, I get five hours with them where we work very hard yet find time to bond. It is truly a remarkable experience to run a family business.
It may be awful at times and I may not be as thankful as I should be, but I am finally beginning to realize we are truly blessed. God gave us place to come together and enjoy one another’s company. After writing this piece, I may never complain again. Well, at least not as much.
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