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Story
February 3, 1900
St. Tammany Farmer
Covington, Saint Tammany County, Louisiana
What is this article about?
Bill Guynan, a Cincinnati citizen, humorously complains about the overly rapid service in local tailor shops and restaurants, sharing anecdotes of hasty fittings and instant meals that leave no time for thought.
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Too Swift for Him.
A Citizen Who Objects to Rapid-fire
Restaurants and Tailor
Shops.
Bill Guynan is up in arms against
what he pleases to term the rapid-
fire" tailors and restaurants in this
city. Mr. Guynan's arguments are
knock-down arguments, and it is pos-
sible that the institutions referred to
will have to go. In order that the pub-
lic may better get at the objections of
Mr. Guynan, and better weigh their
merits, this prince of knockers' own
words on the subject are given.
"Nope. None of that kind of cloth-
ing for me. Why, when I went into
that rapid-fire tailor shop the cutter
was busy writing autographs. Broke
away at last and came down and says
he:
" 'Want a suit of clothes?"
"What'd you think I came in for,
says I. 'A broiled lobster?"
'Married or single?' says he, flash-
ing an old tape line.
'Married,' says I.
" 'When d'ye want 'em?' says he.
" 'In 15 minutes,' says I.
" 'You can have 'em in ten,' says he.
"And in ten minutes I had a set of
pants that looked like a Chinese wed-
ding dress."
After some abstraction. Mr. Guynan
continued: "I walks into one o' these
rapid-fire restaurants the other day,
and just as I was getting a wrench on
my overcoat a waiter rushes up to
me as though he had a pair of specks
to sell, and says he: 'Ordered?'
" 'Nope,' says I.
" What'll it be?"
" 'Ham and eggs.
" 'Here you are.
"And out from under the table he
pulls a slice of fried ham and a pair
of eggs that looked like they had been
matched by Tiffany. Couldn't find any
fault, but it's too fast for me—too fast
for me. As that waiter was scudding
away to kid somebody else I yells
at him, and he came back like a rain
check with a thump.
" 'Well?'
" 'Look here, don't get gay! I want
a steak broiled rare with mushrooms
on the side.'
" 'Here you are,' says he, as he
swishes the steak out from under the
counter before I could get my breath.
I didn't want the steak particularly,
but I wanted to try him out. The
steak was cooked just right, the ham
was perfect and the eggs fresh and
good, but the system is in advance
of the age. This town is getting too
fast for me. A man likes to think a
minute occasionally, and where do you
get a chance to have a decent think
here in Cincinnati?"
It was nearly four o'clock in the
morning, and Col. Guynan climbed up
to his roost over the cigar case and
went to sleep.—Cincinnati Enquirer.
A Citizen Who Objects to Rapid-fire
Restaurants and Tailor
Shops.
Bill Guynan is up in arms against
what he pleases to term the rapid-
fire" tailors and restaurants in this
city. Mr. Guynan's arguments are
knock-down arguments, and it is pos-
sible that the institutions referred to
will have to go. In order that the pub-
lic may better get at the objections of
Mr. Guynan, and better weigh their
merits, this prince of knockers' own
words on the subject are given.
"Nope. None of that kind of cloth-
ing for me. Why, when I went into
that rapid-fire tailor shop the cutter
was busy writing autographs. Broke
away at last and came down and says
he:
" 'Want a suit of clothes?"
"What'd you think I came in for,
says I. 'A broiled lobster?"
'Married or single?' says he, flash-
ing an old tape line.
'Married,' says I.
" 'When d'ye want 'em?' says he.
" 'In 15 minutes,' says I.
" 'You can have 'em in ten,' says he.
"And in ten minutes I had a set of
pants that looked like a Chinese wed-
ding dress."
After some abstraction. Mr. Guynan
continued: "I walks into one o' these
rapid-fire restaurants the other day,
and just as I was getting a wrench on
my overcoat a waiter rushes up to
me as though he had a pair of specks
to sell, and says he: 'Ordered?'
" 'Nope,' says I.
" What'll it be?"
" 'Ham and eggs.
" 'Here you are.
"And out from under the table he
pulls a slice of fried ham and a pair
of eggs that looked like they had been
matched by Tiffany. Couldn't find any
fault, but it's too fast for me—too fast
for me. As that waiter was scudding
away to kid somebody else I yells
at him, and he came back like a rain
check with a thump.
" 'Well?'
" 'Look here, don't get gay! I want
a steak broiled rare with mushrooms
on the side.'
" 'Here you are,' says he, as he
swishes the steak out from under the
counter before I could get my breath.
I didn't want the steak particularly,
but I wanted to try him out. The
steak was cooked just right, the ham
was perfect and the eggs fresh and
good, but the system is in advance
of the age. This town is getting too
fast for me. A man likes to think a
minute occasionally, and where do you
get a chance to have a decent think
here in Cincinnati?"
It was nearly four o'clock in the
morning, and Col. Guynan climbed up
to his roost over the cigar case and
went to sleep.—Cincinnati Enquirer.
What sub-type of article is it?
Curiosity
What themes does it cover?
Social Manners
What keywords are associated?
Rapid Fire Tailors
Fast Restaurants
Quick Service
Cincinnati Complaints
Bill Guynan
What entities or persons were involved?
Bill Guynan
Col. Guynan
Where did it happen?
Cincinnati
Story Details
Key Persons
Bill Guynan
Col. Guynan
Location
Cincinnati
Story Details
Bill Guynan complains about rapid-fire tailor shops where suits are made too quickly and restaurants with instantaneous service, preferring a slower pace to allow time for thought.