My father-in-law had sayings for most every event or happenstance. Lay there and die, he’d say, after dropping something on the floor. To my knowledge, he never dropped anything living.

It never rains but it pours, he professed. That was a slight variation on “It’s either feast or famine,” another of his favorites.

Maybe the reason he said those last two so often was because – well, they’re true for one thing. And those things occur often enough that we are constantly reminded of the truism. And Ed saw to it that we were reminded. Murphy’s Law, he’d point out.

In restaurant parlance – I had it handed to me on Wednesday. That’s a cleaned up version of the actual food service saying. At lunchtime midweek the tables filled up and – as those of you who know me realize – I am at once the waiter, the cook, the busboy, and the dishwasher. Tea-refiller, too. Bookselling checkout clerk, as well.

Could have used a second pair of hands on Wednesday. Or maybe a clone. Two clones would have been better, although the second clone would have tired of the dishwashing duties I would have assigned him.

It was fun. Adrenaline is a wonderful thing, in its proper time and place. I hope my guests realized my hopes included great customer service for all, and toward that end I was moving about as fast as a man of my age and occupation will normally manage.

Wednesday amounted to a schooling of sorts, pointing out that some system had to be in place, whether circumstances demanded it daily or not. In every restaurant in which I’ve had the pleasure of participation, there was some sort of system – good or otherwise. Usually, even a bad system could be tweaked into something more efficient.

The Bistro part of the bookstore had no system previous to Thursday. There was a generalized plan supplemented by some ideas, a few of which turned out to be good ideas. Others – nyaaah. Out with those. The system that went in to effect on Thursday will be tweaked, I’m certain, but there was a much more streamlined delivery of plates of food at lunchtime and a loss less fumbling around.

Nothing like a good downpour to make one look for the umbrella. And that was Wednesday.

Today, a mere two days later, the pace was a complete reversal. Today was closer to what I had anticipated in setting up the food service: a chance to serve lunch to booklovers and strangers-soon-to-be-acquaintances. Not that I don’t want a full house of hungry guests. I’m ready now (he says with hesitant confidence…) and happy to wait on one and all. Enough full houses and I can hire a helper. Work smart, not hard, they say. Of course that means hire someone to do the actual labor. That day will come.

Friday, as Ed would have suggested, was the thinner part of feast or famine, since it never rains but it pours. Hey! The umbrella is ready and I’m anticipating another shower of lunchtime guests and the opportunity to serve up some fresh and tasty fare.