Chapter Nine

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"I'm waiting on an order of creamy calamari, and a side order of Arangini!" I call to the cooks from the line.

Gordon stands beside me, off the line, watching closely as I control the kitchen with a strong voice.
There's at least a dozen tickets up on the line, all of four or more seats.

It's getting tiring, and extremely hot. My feet are aching, and my voice is tired of yelling for runners, or at the cooks to get their food out.

There's too much disfunction, and not enough communication.

"That went out already," Rick tells me.

I shake my head at him, holding the ticket. "No it didn't. I'm waiting on a twelve minute app." I tell him.

A heavy sigh escapes my lips, and I stand with frustration at the line. Gordon stands beside me and begins helping me with the tickets.

"Guys, I need to hear communication. This is ridiculous!" He tells the cooks.

"Three minutes on the Arangini!" Shaun tells me.

I nod. "Thank you!" My shoulders shrug. "That's all I ask for— a freaking time, and some communication."

Gordon hands me another ticket to focus on a while, as we wait for the food. There's plates coming up in the window, so all it needs to do is go out.

"I have table twenty four's food in the window, and it's going out." I tell the cooks.

"Heard." Rick calls back to me.

Gordon nods with approval, and takes over the line as I head out to the dining room.

Being on expedite is making me feel like I'm more in control of things going on around me in the restaurant. And honestly . . Cooking sounds kind of interesting to me.

"Hello," I say as I reach the table. "I have the antipasti linguine," I hold out the plate for the table to grab.

"Me," the woman says. I hand it to her.

This continues on for at least a minuet, and I soon head back into the kitchen to take out the next table.

"They've got themselves all confused. They keep giving me things we've already taken out." Gordon tells me.

I groan inward, and step up to the line. "Guys!" I yell at the cooks. "We've already taken this out. I don't have any other tickets for an antipasti appetizer!" I tell them.

"I'm just reading what's in front of me." Rick says.
"It's table thirteen." Tony joins in.

"Table thirteen went out ten minuets ago." I call back.
Gordon looks irritated and exhausted— I don't blame him. So am I.

"There is no communication in this kitchen! You all need to be talking to each other, and be on the same side." Gordon tells them. "You're all trying to do your own things, and be on different sides. Work together!"

"It's faster if we start three tickets at once. It gets us ahead." Tony yells back to us.

"No, that's how we get messed up food, and sent backs!" I argue with him.
I feel the need to tell him how it is tonight.

"Don't tell me how to run my kitchen." Tony snaps back at me.

"You're not even running it!" I tell him.

Tony flips his hands up in the air and drops the spatula. "Oh, I'm not running it?" He asks sarcastically. "I'm not running it. Alright." He leaves the line, and makes his way out the back door.

Gordon and I look at each other with wide eyes.
"Tony?" Gordon calls to him. "Where are you going?"

"I'm out of here. Fuck this." Tony waves him off, and closes the door.

"Oh my god." Gordon exhales heavily. "What a disaster."

"I'm sorry, I got him riled up." I apologize with an awkward anger on my face.

"It's not your fault, darling. He's just a mess." He shakes his head. "Alright— erm, Rick, you need to take over Tony's spot until I can get him back on the line." Gordon tells him.

"Yes Chef." Rick mumbles, switching positions. "I was already kind of doing it anyways."

"Greg, you take over the middle." Ramsay continues controlling the line.
I work on the tickets, and getting the food out for now, until Gordon comes back to help.

This is a shit show. I'm so over this tonight.

Marissa comes into the kitchen with a plate, and looks to me. "Charlotte," she calls me.

"This came out raw." Marissa frowns awkwardly. I sigh. "Okay, I'll get it fixed." I tell her.

"Guys, this is raw. Come on, it's fucking meatballs." I tell the cooks, showing them.

"Alright! We'll work on it." Rick tells me.

"Give me the ticket please," Shaun says, looking up to me. "It's three meatballs over Angel. Five cheese sauce over it." I tell him.

"Working on it right now." He calls back.

"Thank you." I tell him.

I look to the back door. I wonder how it's going out there with Gordon and Tony.

"Those apps are up, for table sixteen." Joey yells to the line.
"Heard." I say back.

"I'll take them." Marissa says, picking up the food.

"You're an Angel." I smirk at her. She shrugs with a grin.

Gordon comes back into the kitchen, a look of frustration on his face.
He walks up beside me and sighs. "Tony isn't coming back tonight."

𝐅𝐑𝐘 𝐌𝐘 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓; G. RamsayWhere stories live. Discover now