Shoot Your Shot

Ochenta y cuatro - 84

I get to see Big Bird this Friday!

But I was not expecting to do this tonight, I still have to... pack

Water splashes on my forearms as my coworker Michael drops some plates.

"This is not how I wanted to start spring break," I grumble, shoving a plate into the dark, murky soap water two inches from my hips.

Stupid Luis.

Suvaceito, Suvaceito plays through the kitchen as the back kitchen staff serenades the restaurant along with Laura Leon. The dishes clang together as the industrial size dishwasher turns on. Sweat drips down my brow a bit as the heat radiation off the dishwasher spews off steams. A familiar squeaky shoe draws my attention as I shift my eyes towards the black door kitchen. It swings as Fatso himself waddles with a big smile, waving at all the kitchen crew. His smile widens bigger at me when I vigorously wipe off this plate, trying my best not to roll my eyes.

He walks past me and pats me right on the back. "Thanks for coming in, pal," he teases. He scans around the kitchen as everyone is working hard to make his disgraceful restaurant come to life.

"Those dishes aren't getting any cleaner. Rapido!'' Fat Luis claps, making me grunt softly at him as he cackles.

Furrowing my brows at his broad back as he waddles back to his office through the kitchen, I exhale loudly. Holding the washer sprayer, I fumble with the trigger, wanting to spray his grey polo for lying to me about being short staffed tonight.

He is lucky I'm full of sweetness, according to Jaylan. If not, then I would have sprayed this hot water on his back for making it seem like he had a complete emergency, only to find out the kitchen staff needed help tonight. There's nothing wrong with working the crew in the back because I love them dearly but I need to finish packing.

Spraying more plates, some dirty water splashes on my cheek, making me cringe at the food pieces hitting some on my lower lip. Grimacing, I place another plate into the dishwasher.

"I hate this," I grumble, pushing another dish down in the sink. It splashes back at me for complaining.

Cringing at yet another food particle near my mouth, I step back from the sink. My hands are pretty much pruny now from washing dishes for two hours straight!  It's time for my break anyway, so I wash my hands and sneak away from the sink as David and Tomas sing loudly while adding more dishes to the dishwasher. They don't need me, they will be just fine.

Removing my ugly green apron and grabbing my vacation packing list I was working on earlier, I hang it up on the wall of aprons. Shifting my eyes back and forth, I walk over to the chip warmer to grab some chips for myself and go over to grab some salsa. It's compensation since I'm being overworked.

Turning my nose up, I push and walk out back to the main restaurant to see Elena picking her teeth in her silver, shiny compact mirror. Plopping on a bar stool, I put my head down dramatically, only to hear snickering from Elena.