Jennifer parks her car at the employee’s parking lot and walks to the restaurant smiling and squinting at the bright morning sunlight. “Just one more day of this lousy work, and I’ll go to Florida,” she is thinking while walking through the kitchen to the computer area.
The lunch goes the same way like many others: greeting guests, taking orders, bringing food from the kitchen and getting paid. Finally, the last couple has just left, and the lunch is over. Jennifer looks at her watch and sighs: she has to work two more hours today in case if somebody would come for late lunch, which has not happen very often.
Waitresses who had worked lunch already left, but those who will work dinner have not come yet. Most of kitchen workers are having break, and the restaurant is literally empty and quiet at this siesta time.
Jennifer is having soup at the back of the restaurant where a hostess finds her. “Hey, Jen, I’ve just sat the table #6 in the Lake view area,” she says. “Ok, I’m coming,” replies Jennifer finishing her soup.
The company of four has been studying the menu when Jennifer approaches the table. “How are you doing, guys?” Jennifer greets the guests. “We are fine,” wife and husband say raising their eyes from the menu. Their teen boys approximately of the same age are just staring at Jennifer. “Here it comes…” a thought flashes in Jennifer’s head, but she puts her friendliest smile on her face and takes the order of drinks and food.
It is easy to serve one table: no line to fill drinks, no line of orders in the kitchen. Everything is available at the very moment Jennifer needs it.
The guests have just finished their entrees, and taking plates from the table Jennifer asks her traditional question “Are you ready for deserts?” She hopes to hear negative answer, but one of the boys asks “Do you have ice-cream?” “Sure, we do. Which one would you like?” Jennifer smiles at the boy. “Vanilla,” blurts out the boy. “Anything else?” asks Jennifer the rest of the company. They are just shaking their heads, “No, thank you. We are full.”
Jennifer goes to the freezer room in the back of the kitchen for ice-cream. “Oh, my God! Again this door handle!” Jennifer rolls her eyes opening the freezer room door, “How many times should I ask Oscar to fix it???” She holds the heavy door slightly open with her foot while trying to pull the full vanilla ice-cream box from the top shelf. It is not easy: the box is too heavy for skinny Jennifer, and she is hitching it from side to side trying to move it out from its nest. In one of those hitches she leans forward, looses balance and lands on the concrete floor of the freezer room. The box lands next to her, and at the same moment Jennifer hears the sound of the slammed door behind her back.
Welcome to Authspot, the spot for creative writing.
Read some stories and poems, and be sure to subscribe to our feed!