Chapter 19
Chapter 19
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 19
Chapter Title: Opening Day Jitters
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On the day a store first opens, everyone gets the jitters. You might think you've prepared everything perfectly, but it's easy to overlook something important or fumble awkwardly through greeting your first customers.
If you're using part-timers, it's par for the course that the front-of-house and kitchen won't sync up properly.
You'll feel tense, and if no customers show up, you'll start worrying about why.
“...Still, come on. How long have you been like this?”
I'd arrived much earlier than the usual start time, but the lights were already on inside the store. Wondering what was going on, I stepped inside and found Kim Jong-chun—looking like he'd pulled an all-nighter—shivering in front of the broth vat.
“W-Well... This is bone broth that's been simmering for days. I got worried it might go wrong somehow... I meant to just check on it last night, but...”
“You pulled an all-nighter right here?”
“Uh-huh. That's how it turned out.”
Kim Jong-chun rubbed his bloodshot eyes as he spoke. Sigh. What a hopeless guy.
“Mister. I told you not to make such a big deal out of opening day.”
Even the most seasoned business owner gets jitters on the first day. With all the investment and time poured into this place, how could you not?
That's exactly why you need to let go of any greed.
“I know. You've been telling me over and over. But I just couldn't sleep a wink.”
It started last night during the final store check... But hey, the human heart doesn't always follow reason.
I could kinda understand his feelings, so I decided to cut the nagging short.
“My wife wanted to come help out too, but I talked her out of it.”
“Good call.”
“No family or relatives serving on opening day, right?”
“Exactly. It just leads to crossed paths.”
When someone who's not trained in serving jumps in to help, it only tangles up the flow and messes with orders.
“...Still, it's opening day. Shouldn't we at least throw in some head meat as a service?”
“Mister. What did I say about opening day?”
“...Just 70% of my usual skill.”
“You know better than that—why even think it? Serving head meat is pure greed. It's like saying you'll perform at 130% of your ability.”
On a tense, shaky first day, not many people can actually pull off 130% of their skill.
Chances are, orders will back up and the kitchen will grind to a halt.
“The advantage of a single-menu setup is that even novices in the kitchen can manage okay. But if you start adding service items, you'll end up with some tables getting it and others not—prime setup for mistakes.”
“Yeah, I suppose.”
“If no one gets it at all, fine. But my table next door got it and I didn't? That customer won't come back twice.”
Kim Jong-chun nodded at my sharp tone.
“Yeah... you're right.”
Gotta give him credit for agreeing so readily. If he were more stubborn, we'd be arguing back and forth right now.
‘That's one reason I picked Kim Jong-chun for branch manager.’
Yeah. Being able to take expert advice when you're clueless is better than average already... Problem is, most people can't even manage that.
Anyway.
More importantly, there was something Kim Jong-chun needed to do before opening.
“I'll handle things here, so go hand out rice cakes to the local merchants first.”
“Huh? Oh, right. Yeah.”
One side of the store had pre-packaged rice cakes we'd prepared with care.
“But Woo-yeon. This isn't for customers—it's for nearby shops. Does that really make a difference?”
“It does. A huge one.”
Even in a world where you don't know your next-door neighbors, business runs on goodwill.
Especially when people are face-to-face, buying and selling.
“Go around with a big smile, bow politely. If you run into any locals on the way, give 'em a quick nod too.”
“Uh, uh-huh? Even to strangers?”
“Yes. Do it.”
He looked hesitant at my firm reply but nodded anyway.
This is a neighborhood spot, after all. He'll feel the payoff from those greetings soon enough—I'll explain later.
While Kim Jong-chun was out distributing the rice cakes, I busied myself with opening prep.
10:50 a.m.
Opening time was exactly 11:00. Right before the doors opened, Kim Jong-chun barely made it back on time.
“All done?”
“Yeah. Around here, at least.”
He nodded and tied on his apron.
Tick, tock, tick, tock.
The clock hit exactly 11:00.
And the dining area...
Was empty.
“No one's coming.”
Kim Jong-chun muttered, deflated. Well, we'd been counting down to opening, but that didn't mean a rush right at the door.
With the door open and the new-business sign out, a customer or two would trickle in soon.
“From here on, it's a test of patience. No scrolling on your phone in the open kitchen if it's slow—got it?”
“Of course.”
“I'll remind you later, but try not to let staff eat where customers can see.”
“Ah, like at In-cheol's place?”
“Yeah, exactly.”
At the main branch, meals were scarfed down out of sight. Give staff plenty of break time, but always in a separate space. That was my rule.
Kim Jong-chun nodded that he got it.
“But why's that? I've always wondered.”
“You can't eat gukbap for lunch and dinner every day at a gukbap joint. It gets old.”
“Right.”
“So you order from elsewhere or whip up kimchi stew from leftovers in the fridge.”
“Makes sense.”
He still looked puzzled. I explained patiently.
“How does it look to customers? If a Chinese place's cook won't eat their own jjajangmyeon.”
“Ah...!”
“Makes you wonder if it's not hygienic or if they're just slopping stuff together since it's not for themselves.”
That's why restaurant signs say things like 'Made as if for my own family.'
Especially if staff are eating something other than the menu for meals. Instant trust killer.
“Yeah, it could come off that way.”
Kim Jong-chun bobbed his head eagerly, like a baby bird gobbling food. Admirable how he chews over every little tip.
Even if he looks way older than me.
“Gotta watch that from now on...”
Poke. I jabbed Kim Jong-chun's side and darted to the door. He looked puzzled, then jolted in surprise too.
Swish.
The door slid open, and in walked a customer about college age.
“Welcome! Party of how many?”
“Just one.”
“Right this way.”
I smiled brightly and led them to the farthest seat.
“We've only got one item on the menu—Hapjae Neighborhood Gukbap okay with you?”
“Oh, sure. That's fine.”
“Thank you.”
I bowed, then punched the order into the POS.
Sizzle.
The grill heated up in the kitchen. I grinned toward it.
“Table one, one gukbap.”
Kim Jong-chun nodded, face full of emotion.
“...One gukbap!”
I called it out again from the kitchen like I'd been taught, then got moving.
Business had finally begun.
“Owner!”
Han Mi-ae snapped to attention. Looking up, she saw the rice mill owner standing at her tteokbokki station.
“What're you doing? No lunch?”
“Oh, gotta eat. Still got a customer in the back. You go ahead.”
“Man, business is booming these days.”
Han Mi-ae flashed a beaming smile at his words.
“Isn't it?”
“What was it—some big shot gave you good advice and left? Guess it really was a VIP.”
“You bet. Couldn't believe it.”
Han Mi-ae pointed to her smaller tteokbokki pan.
“Switched to this, and tteokbokki orders shot up. Fried stuff tastes way better too.”
“Your face is lit up like a flower.”
She gave an embarrassed grin.
“Anyway, can't decide on lunch. Sick of kimchi stew.”
“Ah!”
Han Mi-ae leaned forward eagerly.
“That new gukbap place next door. You tried it?”
“Oh, there? Nah, not yet. They threw it together quick and opened today, I guess. Their owner was handing out rice cakes here first thing this morning.”
The rice mill owner snorted.
“Handing rice cakes to a rice cake shop owner? Come on.”
“It's a nice gesture. How many places do that these days?”
“True. Fair point.”
He nodded in agreement.
“Sigh. Still can't go there.”
“Why? What's so great about it?”
“They just opened today—you talk like you've been.”
Han Mi-ae clammed up, caught off guard. Her recommendation was pure bias.
The rice mill owner waved dismissively again.
“Too busy to check it out today. Place is packed solid.”
“...Huh?”
“Crowded as heck—can't get in.”
Han Mi-ae's eyes widened. She glanced around her dining area, then slipped outside to peer at the gukbap spot.
“Whoa...”
He wasn't kidding.
It was jammed full inside.
On opening day!
‘...How the heck?’
Her mind filled with questions. Then a voice brushed her ear.
-Business doesn't always go as planned, does it?
That young face, with an oddly old-soul tone that didn't match but somehow fit perfectly.
-Song Woo-yeon. Looking forward to working with you.
“...Song Woo-yeon.”
Han Mi-ae murmured the name without thinking.
An inexplicable certainty washed over her.
The mastermind behind this unbelievable miracle was none other than that 'Song Woo-yeon.'