"Although I also feel that so of these customs are unnecessary, the old masters in West District think they should be followed. The playbill of the theater, flower list of the flower shop, even the price list of the bakery, all these can be individually delivered to the mailbox, but grand opening advertisents cannot."
"Because it takes ti to put together these things and print them on a piece of colored, scented paper. It proves that these shops are opened for these n, and they are more than willing to shop for anything."
"But if you cram a grand opening advertisent into their mailbox, clearly stating it belongs to a restaurant in East District and attaching a nu, they would feel insulted. If they see your na, they might view you as a mob, forcing them to patronize your restaurant."
With a thoughtful nod, Cobblepot acknowledged, "You're right. They certainly would prefer seeing so complicated dishes on the nu, rather than simple steak or bread."
"This building has seven full floors. Are you telling there are no VIP rooms or sothing like that?" Shiller glanced thoughtfully at the ceiling of the hall.
I choked Cobblepot, "I'm not sure, how should... How should I interact with... I an, people on the sa level as you...."
Shiller gave a small smile. "Didn't you observe all of that when you were an umbrella boy? You surely must know what high-profile folks are like."
"Yes ..." Cobblepot nodded. "But when I actually started planning the restaurant, it turned out to be more complicated than expected."
"I guess you wanted too much," Shiller observed, gazing out the window. "You must be well-aware of the wealth the logistics industry has brought to you."
"Take for instance, the restaurants in the Manor district, each one is grand and lavish. The patrons are either rich or of high class. However, they may not necessarily be as profitable as the most popular restaurants in the East District."
"Many of these restaurants lose money. If it weren't for the support of the Twelve Families, they would have gone out of business long ago. Exquisite cuisine does not assure high sales, and it's high risk if it's not well preserved, as it can affect the reputation. It's really a thankless task."
"On the contrary, restaurants in East District operate on a high volu, low margin business model. They're raking in the cash every day. The ingredients are simple and easy to handle, and the custors' tastes are not that demanding. As long as the servings are substantial, they earn good reviews. Furthermore, being close to the port ans a high volu of traffic, resulting in massive profits for the owners."
"Given this scenario, it's understandable that you would want to get a piece of the pie. After all, having a sick family mber ans you're always short of money...." Shiller paused to take a sip of his water, then continued.
"At the sa ti, you also want to fulfill your ambition. You want to climb up the social ladder and connect with people from higher echelons, which is why you chose this mansion as the venue for your restaurant. Its grandeur is enough to attract mbers of the Twelve Families and the wealthy residents."
"But more often than not, these two types of clientele conflict. The wealthy desire high-quality and exclusive ingredients to showcase their affluence and taste. But the massive crowd here only wants to eat their fill. Different custors have different needs, which naturally require different approaches. Have you thought about how to balance these requirents with just one restaurant?"
Cobblepot appeared uneasy. Indeed, he had interacted with Gotham's elite in his youth. With the decline of the Oswald family and his father's demise, he's now drifted into obscurity, much like Gotham's lower-class populace.
He didn't know the latest trends among the wealthy nor how to navigate their bizarre customs and fit into their circle.
"Should I not have tried to accommodate both?" Cobblepot furrowed his brows, beginning to doubt his initial decisions. He had indeed planned to do so.
The crowds from East District could bring huge revenue, and the mansion's geographical location and past functions could attract elite clientele, both seeming like a win-win situation.
But when it cos to execution, there are bound to be complications. For instance, the elite are picky dine-ins. They won't eat where dock workers and porters are also admitted, let alone eat their als with them.
Besides, their diets are different from the common folk. They're willing to pay a high price for premium goods, irrespective of the taste, as long as they're rare and hard to preserve. But the laborers want just the opposite.
To cater to high footfall, the first floor Hall would need to be transford into a dining room. To attract the elite, a ballroom would be required for hosting balls. With only one restaurant, it's difficult to find a balance between the two demands.
Shiller placed his hands flat on the table top, looking Cobblepot in the eye, "Are you doubting your initial decision? Do you think these two aspects are really incompatible? Well, I believe they could be."
"If you were my student, you'd have learned this in the past few days – where does a sense of superiority co from?"
Cobblepot frowned, thinking. After a while, he seed to grasp sothing, but struggled to articulate it systematically.
"A sense of superiority cos from comparison. You don't have to be the richest person in the world, just richer than most is enough. Even if you're not richer than the majority, as long as you're wealthier than your neighbor, it'll do."
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