Post by Serori Yakedo-Satsumaimo on Mar 6, 2012 19:52:39 GMT -5
Serori went to the noodle shop for her day of work. Walking to the back, she saw the fat man cooking noodles. She coughed politely, to get his attention, and he turned to her, still stirring noodles.
“Would you like for me to cook again today, sir?”
He scratched his chin, making a scraping sound, and shook his head. “No, I think today you need to wait. You'll need experience waiting if you want to get anywhere in this job.” He pointed out the kitchen doors. “Go talk to Matcha, he'll tell you what to do, and give you the food to take to the tables.”
Serori went back to the main part of the building. She found Matcha, who was currently behind the counter, counting the money in the register.
“Excuse me, Matcha, but...the boss told me you could help me? I'm supposed to wait today.”
Matcha looked at her, and shook his head. “Boss never introduce himself to you?” Serori shook her head as well. Matcha sighed. “His name is Kabocha Kinoko. He's a nice guy when you get to know him, but tends to scare our workers off. That's why its just me and him. And now you.” A bell rang behind them, and Matcha walked to the back, picking up a bowl. He handed it to Serori. “This goes to table 5. There's a chart by the wall on your way out with a list of the table numbers.”
Serori thanked him, and looked at the chart. It wasn't complicated, and she quickly found table five, and took the bowl over to the customer. It was difficult, she having to walk slowly, as the bowl was filled to the top. She didn't want to spill a single drop on her first try. She set it down when she made it. “Here you go, sir, I hope you enjoy.” She bowed, and the man thanked her, then began eating ravenously. She walked briskly back to the front, to see three more bowls waiting for her, with little tags under them. Upon further inspection, they appeared to be thin pieces of paper with numbers written on them. Assuming that they were the table numbers, she picked the first one up. It was for table three. She thought for a second, then decided to pick up a second bowl, for table two. 'I should be able to carry both at once, and make one trip instead of two,' she thought. She checked the chart, marked the tables in her mind, and began to deliver the bowls.
She found that it was much more difficult to carry them both with only one hand each. She kept spilling them, just a tiny bit, but enough to trickle down her hand annoyingly. When she finally made it to the tables, a noticeable amount had spilled out, but not enough to be subjected by complaints. She went back over to the counter, and saw Matcha pick up six bowls, and swiftly carry them to six different tables, without spilling a drop. He came back, Serori's mouth in a gasp.
“How did you do that? I could hardly carry two without spilling them”
Matcha looked over his shoulder at the six tables he had just served. “Years of practice, years and years of practice.” He went back to standing behind the counter, waiting for a customer to come in and place an order. Serori was still shocked. Not only had Matcha carried six bowls, he hadn't let any of it spill, and had done it faster than she could deliver one. She obviously had much to learn, and was determined to become better than Matcha.
As the night wore on, more people started coming in. Serori was adeptly able to carry two bowls with a swiftness, and not drop any of it now. She was definitely a quick learner. It was about this time, however, that she met her first “drop”. All waiters and waitresses have at least one of these, usually more, in all the time that they wait. It was as she was carrying two bowls to a customer. She'd just set one down, and was turning to drop off the other one, when the person sitting at the table next to the one she was at suddenly backed up, hitting her legs with the chair. This caused Serori to trip, and spill the hot soup all over the now indignant customer. He started yelling at Serori as she got up, continuously yelling obscenities, shouting about how this was a new suit, and she was going to pay when he was done with her. Serori stood there, and just took it. She didn't know what else to do. Suddenly the man pulled back his fist, and made as if to punch her. But as his arm moved through the air, suddenly the kitchen door slammed open, and something flew through the air, hitting the man's head with a loud crack. He had been hit with a wooden ladle, square between his eyes, which crossed, and he fell forward. Serori, eyes glazed with tears, was slowly walked to the kitchen by Matcha.
Matcha left her there with Kabocha, who had procured another ladle, to go escort the dazed man out of the restaurant. Serori looked at her feet, hands cradled in front of her, awaiting her punishment. Kabocha kept cooking. Finally, after a moment of silence, he spoke.
“You'd better go back out there. Its bad to keep hungry customers waiting.” Serori was taken aback. She had been expecting a punishment, possibly even to get fired, for this.
“But Mr. Kabocha, I spilled soup on a customer, surely you can't just want me to go back out there?”
Mr. Kabocha flinched at the use of his name, but kept stirring the noodles. 'That's all he seems to do,' thought Serori. 'He just stirs noodles, I never see him add anything, and they always turn out great.' “You did something that all, even the greatest of waiting staff, has done at one point in there career. Besides, you've just started waiting today, an accident is expected, almost required. You keep up the good work you've been doing out there.” He looked up at Serori, a twinkle in his eye, and winked. “You keep up, and maybe you'll be better than Matcha one day. Now, go back out there, and show them how a real person makes up for a mistake.” Serori jutted her jaw, and strutted back out.
This time, instead of taking two bowls, she took four, setting the extra two in the crook of her arm, and set out for their respective tables. She sped up from the pace she had been taking. Setting the bowls down, she looked at her arms. Not a single drop on them. Feeling proud, she walked back to the counter, and grabbed four more, quickening her pace again. She delivered them with a new found ease. She kept this up, leaving Matcha at the counter taking orders. She was impressed at her own abilities. She knew that within the week she would be able to carry at least six bowls, possibly even eight or, though this would be stretching it, eight.
After work, she and Matcha cleaned up, wiping down tables and chairs, flipping the chairs over onto the tables, pushing the tables against the walls, and mopping the floor. They didn't bother about the kitchen, since Mr. Kabocha had everything organised in a specific way only to him. After all was done, they met with Mr. Kabocha in the main room, and were given there daily pay.
Serori said a quick goodbye, and made for her pod, feeling good. Tomorrow, she would go to the library. She'd been meaning to do some research on the Saiyans, seeing as she knew next to nothing about her own race. She had, after all, grown up on Earth. And maybe she could buy a new spacepod with her money. Hers was pretty old, and would no longer fly. But, that would all have to wait until tomorrow.
“Would you like for me to cook again today, sir?”
He scratched his chin, making a scraping sound, and shook his head. “No, I think today you need to wait. You'll need experience waiting if you want to get anywhere in this job.” He pointed out the kitchen doors. “Go talk to Matcha, he'll tell you what to do, and give you the food to take to the tables.”
Serori went back to the main part of the building. She found Matcha, who was currently behind the counter, counting the money in the register.
“Excuse me, Matcha, but...the boss told me you could help me? I'm supposed to wait today.”
Matcha looked at her, and shook his head. “Boss never introduce himself to you?” Serori shook her head as well. Matcha sighed. “His name is Kabocha Kinoko. He's a nice guy when you get to know him, but tends to scare our workers off. That's why its just me and him. And now you.” A bell rang behind them, and Matcha walked to the back, picking up a bowl. He handed it to Serori. “This goes to table 5. There's a chart by the wall on your way out with a list of the table numbers.”
Serori thanked him, and looked at the chart. It wasn't complicated, and she quickly found table five, and took the bowl over to the customer. It was difficult, she having to walk slowly, as the bowl was filled to the top. She didn't want to spill a single drop on her first try. She set it down when she made it. “Here you go, sir, I hope you enjoy.” She bowed, and the man thanked her, then began eating ravenously. She walked briskly back to the front, to see three more bowls waiting for her, with little tags under them. Upon further inspection, they appeared to be thin pieces of paper with numbers written on them. Assuming that they were the table numbers, she picked the first one up. It was for table three. She thought for a second, then decided to pick up a second bowl, for table two. 'I should be able to carry both at once, and make one trip instead of two,' she thought. She checked the chart, marked the tables in her mind, and began to deliver the bowls.
She found that it was much more difficult to carry them both with only one hand each. She kept spilling them, just a tiny bit, but enough to trickle down her hand annoyingly. When she finally made it to the tables, a noticeable amount had spilled out, but not enough to be subjected by complaints. She went back over to the counter, and saw Matcha pick up six bowls, and swiftly carry them to six different tables, without spilling a drop. He came back, Serori's mouth in a gasp.
“How did you do that? I could hardly carry two without spilling them”
Matcha looked over his shoulder at the six tables he had just served. “Years of practice, years and years of practice.” He went back to standing behind the counter, waiting for a customer to come in and place an order. Serori was still shocked. Not only had Matcha carried six bowls, he hadn't let any of it spill, and had done it faster than she could deliver one. She obviously had much to learn, and was determined to become better than Matcha.
As the night wore on, more people started coming in. Serori was adeptly able to carry two bowls with a swiftness, and not drop any of it now. She was definitely a quick learner. It was about this time, however, that she met her first “drop”. All waiters and waitresses have at least one of these, usually more, in all the time that they wait. It was as she was carrying two bowls to a customer. She'd just set one down, and was turning to drop off the other one, when the person sitting at the table next to the one she was at suddenly backed up, hitting her legs with the chair. This caused Serori to trip, and spill the hot soup all over the now indignant customer. He started yelling at Serori as she got up, continuously yelling obscenities, shouting about how this was a new suit, and she was going to pay when he was done with her. Serori stood there, and just took it. She didn't know what else to do. Suddenly the man pulled back his fist, and made as if to punch her. But as his arm moved through the air, suddenly the kitchen door slammed open, and something flew through the air, hitting the man's head with a loud crack. He had been hit with a wooden ladle, square between his eyes, which crossed, and he fell forward. Serori, eyes glazed with tears, was slowly walked to the kitchen by Matcha.
Matcha left her there with Kabocha, who had procured another ladle, to go escort the dazed man out of the restaurant. Serori looked at her feet, hands cradled in front of her, awaiting her punishment. Kabocha kept cooking. Finally, after a moment of silence, he spoke.
“You'd better go back out there. Its bad to keep hungry customers waiting.” Serori was taken aback. She had been expecting a punishment, possibly even to get fired, for this.
“But Mr. Kabocha, I spilled soup on a customer, surely you can't just want me to go back out there?”
Mr. Kabocha flinched at the use of his name, but kept stirring the noodles. 'That's all he seems to do,' thought Serori. 'He just stirs noodles, I never see him add anything, and they always turn out great.' “You did something that all, even the greatest of waiting staff, has done at one point in there career. Besides, you've just started waiting today, an accident is expected, almost required. You keep up the good work you've been doing out there.” He looked up at Serori, a twinkle in his eye, and winked. “You keep up, and maybe you'll be better than Matcha one day. Now, go back out there, and show them how a real person makes up for a mistake.” Serori jutted her jaw, and strutted back out.
This time, instead of taking two bowls, she took four, setting the extra two in the crook of her arm, and set out for their respective tables. She sped up from the pace she had been taking. Setting the bowls down, she looked at her arms. Not a single drop on them. Feeling proud, she walked back to the counter, and grabbed four more, quickening her pace again. She delivered them with a new found ease. She kept this up, leaving Matcha at the counter taking orders. She was impressed at her own abilities. She knew that within the week she would be able to carry at least six bowls, possibly even eight or, though this would be stretching it, eight.
After work, she and Matcha cleaned up, wiping down tables and chairs, flipping the chairs over onto the tables, pushing the tables against the walls, and mopping the floor. They didn't bother about the kitchen, since Mr. Kabocha had everything organised in a specific way only to him. After all was done, they met with Mr. Kabocha in the main room, and were given there daily pay.
Serori said a quick goodbye, and made for her pod, feeling good. Tomorrow, she would go to the library. She'd been meaning to do some research on the Saiyans, seeing as she knew next to nothing about her own race. She had, after all, grown up on Earth. And maybe she could buy a new spacepod with her money. Hers was pretty old, and would no longer fly. But, that would all have to wait until tomorrow.
