Ryszard Ratajczak

His grudge began at a wedding reception where he spent three hours rescuing a collapsing dessert course while the invoice credited him with setting out plates, and he has distrusted flat-rate arithmetic ever since. Now fifty-six, after years of arranging plated dinners around late deliveries and impossible promises, he became impossible to talk to about repair time when a correct diagnosis was praised as quick work and paid as though thought had not occurred.