A Stranger To Him

Fourteen, Politely insulting people is a talent

"You can change in the back if you want," Aivy says, pointing towards the almost hidden door in the back of the lounge, which leads to the kitchen and the storage. I take a quick look and give the raven black-haired girl a thankful smile.

I met Aivy a couple of minutes ago when I walked into the café. She's the daughter of the owner of the cafe and one of my colleagues. She usually works here almost every afternoon, just helping her dad with the business. I guess I'll see her around often, as I'm a new employee at the cafe.

They sent me an email last week, telling me that I could start working immediately, without even doing a job interview. They needed an extra hand of help instantly, and I was the best candidate. At least, that's what they told me. Today - Thursday - is my first day working around here.

I'm really nervous about it, but I refuse to let that feeling take control of me. I'll become less nervous eventually. Besides, there's nothing to be worried or nervous about. Everything will be fine, and there's nothing wrong with making mistakes on your first day of work. Luckily, I'm not a waitress, but a bartender. I won't have to be afraid to drop drinks on the floor while I'm walking. Working behind the bar is a job where my clumsiness won't be too much insight.

I open the backdoor and walk into the little storage. I see the changing rooms on my left and walk towards the rooms. I open the door to the ladies' room and enter an empty room. I quickly grab my new work blouse from my bag. I change my black-colored top for the white blouse and tuck the bottom of the blouse in my pants. I take a quick look in the large mirror, which is hanging on the wall. I put my loose hair together in a high ponytail with my hair tie and put my top back in my bag.

When I return to the cafe, Aivy already started working. There are already a lot of customers, so I'll better get to work too. Luckily, Aivy explained to me how everything works, and I know exactly what I need to do. I can start right away without asking her any more questions.

"Two coke, please." A waitress says to me, typing on the keyboard of the computer. Her red curly hair is put together in a low ponytail, and she's wearing the same blouse as I am. I think her name was Avery, but I'm not sure. Aivy introduced me to most of the people working around here, but I'm very bad at remembering names. I already forgot half of the names of the people she introduced me to.

"Coming right up," I say while I grab two glasses from the row of glasses standing in the open cabinet above me. I start filling the glasses with coke and put them on the serving tray when they're full. I grab a little bowl with different types of nuts and put the bowl next to the glasses. The red-haired girl smiles at me before she grabs the serving tray and walks away.

I keep working with ease and excitement. I actually like the work that needs to be done, and I think that deciding to work as a bartender was a good idea. The work is easy, and my colleagues are really nice. I think I'll even make some friends around here. Besides, I'm not nervous at all anymore, and I'm starting to feel a little more comfortable.

I make all different kinds of drinks, from wine to espresso and from soft drinks to liquor. There's a lot of variation in the drinks you can order here, just like the food. Most of the food consists of little European bites.

Aivy and her dad are originally from France, and they traveled a lot around Europe before they moved here. Aside from him being the owner of this place, he's also the cook. He learned most of his cooking skills when they traveled, and now, he knows how to make different kinds of snacks with a different background story and origin.

This place is famous amongst young people for its extraordinary but extremely tasty bites. The bell rings continuously, letting us know that new customers have arrived or left. I guess a lot of people are already celebrating the upcoming weekend and the fact that these weeks are the last summer weeks of the year.