Why won't u let me cup ur beans 🤲 🥺

Sudo root delete beans

The top one is a drop vault you can see the little door, employees can deposit it without needing a code. Managers have access to this one to reconcile all the days deposits for the end of the night close.

The bottom one is long storage usually only the gm/owner has that code. The previous days cash is verified then moved into that one for holding until a bank run or money truck pickup can be arranged.

Standard restaurant set up.

One for each of the bowls if beans

In case you want to use it more than once.

How do I delete someone else's post?

They never stopped if your instance is federated with hexbear. People block/defed because they don't like the politics but they don't realize they are missing the hot bean action

BEE MEMES?

I came looking for this

I always see this scene and get so sad for him. That's a lot of food that he put a lot of work into and was proud of his work. Watching him try to shovel it back into the pot hurts. I know it's meant to be played off for humor, but I see next to none in that scene.

The works of the roots of the vines, of the trees, must be destroyed to keep up the price, and this is the saddest, bitterest thing of all. Carloads of oranges dumped on the ground. The people came for miles to take the fruit, but this could not be. How would they buy oranges at twenty cents a dozen if they could drive out and pick them up? And men with hoses squirt kerosene on the oranges, and they are angry at the crime, angry at the people who have come to take the fruit. A million people hungry, needing the fruit- and kerosene sprayed over the golden mountains. And the smell of rot fills the country. Burn coffee for fuel in the ships. Burn corn to keep warm, it makes a hot fire. Dump potatoes in the rivers and place guards along the banks to keep the hungry people from fishing them out. Slaughter the pigs and bury them, and let the putrescence drip down into the earth.

There is a crime here that goes beyond denunciation. There is a sorrow here that weeping cannot symbolize. There is a failure here that topples all our success. The fertile earth, the straight tree rows, the sturdy trunks, and the ripe fruit. And children dying of pellagra must die because a profit cannot be taken from an orange. And coroners must fill in the certificate- died of malnutrition- because the food must rot, must be forced to rot. The people come with nets to fish for potatoes in the river, and the guards hold them back; they come in rattling cars to get the dumped oranges, but the kerosene is sprayed. And they stand still and watch the potatoes float by, listen to the screaming pigs being killed in a ditch and covered with quick-lime, watch the mountains of oranges slop down to a putrefying ooze; and in the eyes of the people there is the failure; and in the eyes of the hungry there is a growing wrath. In the souls of the people the grapes of wrath are filling and growing heavy, growing heavy for the vintage.