The restaurateur is known as Pino, though that was the previous owner’s name. He's not Italian, just on the hairy side.
When he bought Pino's, there were still two other sit-down restaurants in town; now there's only the takeaways on Beach Road.
He's successfully used the Heimlich twice on customers, but hasn't had anyone choke since he switched to pitted olives. In his darker moments he wonders if it’s not the olives, if it’s a numbers thing. Every year there’s fewer people in town, less money, less to celebrate.
He's not sure if he holds a monopoly or a millstone.
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