you myself.” Ben smiled, striking a match and helping the blonde light her cigarette. “From now on, anytime you come here, I’ll take care of you personally.”
“I like that, big boy.” Trixie now smiled for the first time. “Think you can handle us?”
“Don’t know, but it should be fun trying,” he said nodding.
As Ben walked back to the kitchen with their order, O’Hara laughed, “I see you met our local strippers. Everybody around here knows ‘em. The blonde is real good, but expensive, if you know what I mean,” he said.
Ben smiled. “A customer is a customer.”
Looking toward the entrance, Ben greeted a few more men, two couples on their way to work downtown and three storekeepers from State Street. Each time someone entered, he got their names and followed up to make sure they liked the food. By eight o’clock, he had over twenty customers.
At lunch time, he put on his jacket and again greeted each customer the same way, being sure to mention specials on the menu. When he closed the door at three, he’d had a total of forty nine customers. He had also bet fifty cents on two numbers with Tim O’Hara’s policy wheel.
From then on, Ben arrived each day at six a.m., took off his jacket, checked on his cook, waiters, busboy and dishwasher and began greeting customers by six-thirty. By seven every morning, he had already placed a fifty cent wager for two numbers with Tim O’Hara. If he hit his number the previous day, he would up the ante and place a two dollar wager on a horse race or ball game. O’Hara, finding it convenient, began using Molly’s as his morning office and thanked Ben for allowing him to use one of the booths. He also repaid the favor by bringing in several new customers, including Jake Guzik, long time friend and advisor to Al Capone. Guzik took a liking to Ben, returning frequently for business lunches with free-spending acquaintances.
Within weeks, Ben had made friends with and was calling most customers by name; always inquiring about their families and jobs, as well checking that all orders were prepared to their satisfaction. He also worked with the employees, getting them to remember names and likes and dislikes of each patron.
Closing time was three p.m., but Ben didn’t leave until five, after checking that everything was ready for the next day and seeing that each employee had left with a package of leftover food to take home. In six weeks, after handing out hundreds of business cards and encouraging comments on service and calls for lunch reservations, he was attracting crowds from the Loop. Molly’s was not only showing a profit but bringing in a substantial amount of cash that wasn’t entered on the books.
In the fall of 1927 the Siegals moved to Albany Park. They immediately fell in love with the neighborhood’s wide, clean streets, paved alleys and green parkways planted with young trees.
The new apartment was quite a change from the cramped quarters of their apartment in the same building as her folks on 16 th and Hamlin. It was a large, third-floor in the front of a recently constructed six-flat at Central Park and Ainslie. The three bedrooms and two baths were not large, but spacious compared to the old flat. The other tenants of the building were young couples with toddlers or grade-school children and almost all were Jewish. Their building mates included a lawyer, a salesman for a Chrysler Plymouth dealer on Irving Park, a Logan Square hardware dealer and the owner of a shoe store on Lawrence Avenue. The husbands all worked long hours while their wives had their hands full taking care of the house and raising kids. Molly quickly became acquainted with the women.
Their first two weeks in the building were hectic. The painters were still working in the apartment and Molly had difficulty unpacking and taking care of Doris while they were around. Finally, on Friday of the second week, the painters finished. Ben had just come home.
He and Molly were
“I like that, big boy.” Trixie now smiled for the first time. “Think you can handle us?”
“Don’t know, but it should be fun trying,” he said nodding.
As Ben walked back to the kitchen with their order, O’Hara laughed, “I see you met our local strippers. Everybody around here knows ‘em. The blonde is real good, but expensive, if you know what I mean,” he said.
Ben smiled. “A customer is a customer.”
Looking toward the entrance, Ben greeted a few more men, two couples on their way to work downtown and three storekeepers from State Street. Each time someone entered, he got their names and followed up to make sure they liked the food. By eight o’clock, he had over twenty customers.
At lunch time, he put on his jacket and again greeted each customer the same way, being sure to mention specials on the menu. When he closed the door at three, he’d had a total of forty nine customers. He had also bet fifty cents on two numbers with Tim O’Hara’s policy wheel.
From then on, Ben arrived each day at six a.m., took off his jacket, checked on his cook, waiters, busboy and dishwasher and began greeting customers by six-thirty. By seven every morning, he had already placed a fifty cent wager for two numbers with Tim O’Hara. If he hit his number the previous day, he would up the ante and place a two dollar wager on a horse race or ball game. O’Hara, finding it convenient, began using Molly’s as his morning office and thanked Ben for allowing him to use one of the booths. He also repaid the favor by bringing in several new customers, including Jake Guzik, long time friend and advisor to Al Capone. Guzik took a liking to Ben, returning frequently for business lunches with free-spending acquaintances.
Within weeks, Ben had made friends with and was calling most customers by name; always inquiring about their families and jobs, as well checking that all orders were prepared to their satisfaction. He also worked with the employees, getting them to remember names and likes and dislikes of each patron.
Closing time was three p.m., but Ben didn’t leave until five, after checking that everything was ready for the next day and seeing that each employee had left with a package of leftover food to take home. In six weeks, after handing out hundreds of business cards and encouraging comments on service and calls for lunch reservations, he was attracting crowds from the Loop. Molly’s was not only showing a profit but bringing in a substantial amount of cash that wasn’t entered on the books.
In the fall of 1927 the Siegals moved to Albany Park. They immediately fell in love with the neighborhood’s wide, clean streets, paved alleys and green parkways planted with young trees.
The new apartment was quite a change from the cramped quarters of their apartment in the same building as her folks on 16 th and Hamlin. It was a large, third-floor in the front of a recently constructed six-flat at Central Park and Ainslie. The three bedrooms and two baths were not large, but spacious compared to the old flat. The other tenants of the building were young couples with toddlers or grade-school children and almost all were Jewish. Their building mates included a lawyer, a salesman for a Chrysler Plymouth dealer on Irving Park, a Logan Square hardware dealer and the owner of a shoe store on Lawrence Avenue. The husbands all worked long hours while their wives had their hands full taking care of the house and raising kids. Molly quickly became acquainted with the women.
Their first two weeks in the building were hectic. The painters were still working in the apartment and Molly had difficulty unpacking and taking care of Doris while they were around. Finally, on Friday of the second week, the painters finished. Ben had just come home.
He and Molly were
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