Eat or Be Eaten (MewGulf AU)

🌻Chapter 9

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"My feet are killing me!"

It was almost midnight when Gulf got home from his first day of work. He fell backwards onto the sofa in the apartment where he lived alone, and stretched his exhausted legs. The restaurant wasn't big, but he had been moving the entire time they were open. He hoped his shoes would get more comfortable tomomw

The restaurant closed at eleven, but the customers and staff didn't pay much attention to that. The last customer had come in just a few minutes before the kitchen closed and then ordered a full meal. Since Gulf had to go to work the next day, he had been allowed to leave at the promised hour of eleven o'clock but he wondered how the rest of the staff were going to get home.

He received some of the fresh-baked bread as a  present on his way home. It was still fluffy.

Normally the floor staff was given time to eat between store opening and six o'clock. That day, too, they'd had Tong's bread, which went very well with the hashed beef sauce they were given.

"Maybe I'll take some to the office tomorrow and make Dad try it."

They were keeping it a secret exactly where Gulf was helping out, but no one would be able to figure out where he was working just from a piece of bread. And if his dad ate this bread, he wouldn't need to know where it came from for it to reassure him

Gulf wasn't used to work like this, so he was worn out but satisfied. There had been many things he didn't know and he apologized many times to the customers. That made him feel useless, but it had been fun anyway.

As soon as the restaurant opened, Gulf had sensed Mew's eyes on him and he felt driven to make a good impression. But as customers began to fill the tables, he no longer noticed it. Or rather, he didn't have time to think about it.

The people who patronized Individu were generally tolerant, as Gulf had been during his own visits as a customer. They greeted the new staff member magnanimously and kindly helped him without berating him for his mistakes, even when he was slow with their food. But that only made Gulf feel bad for abusing their kindness and he vowed not to make the same mistakes again.

Net had been as hyperactive as a child before the restaurant opened, but as soon as the doors opened he transformed into the quintessential waiter. His laid-back personality was still the same, of course, and helped the first customers in the restaurant relax with a friendly smile. When they hesitated over the menu , he provided impeccable advice. His service was so practiced that he no longer seemed like a graduate student. Gulf learned that he had worked in coffee shops and fast food restaurants since high school.

James' service was a model in its perfection and fluidity, putting all the customers at ease. Seeing his work up close, Gulf could feel its effects. His movements as he served wine, especially, were like a sophisticated dance, elegant and refined.

Gulf thought there was something that separated James from himself, and on his third day of work he realized what it was. Every one of  James' movements was strictly controlled, following the form. One movement flowed into the next without the slightest hesitation.

Perhaps his absolute confidence in his service made his movements look so beautiful. He even uncorked the wine masterfully. Gulf suspected that if he James were to serve the exact same wine, James' would taste better.

It was the same with the food.

Food served with a smile tasted better than food served indifferently. The basic taste remained the same, but a smile added a certain spice that let customers remember the experience as wonderful with more than their taste buds.

Gulf felt as if his work on the staff allowed him to understand one part of why the food had been so delicious the first time he came, and why it only got better the more he'd returned.

The staff represented Mew's principles loyally. The restaurant created good customers and good customers made for a good restaurant.

Gulf wanted the customers who came to Individu to have better and better food each time. And in order to do that, he had to understand the food itself.

He rolled over and took the menu they'd given him out of his hag. He had to memorize the menu or he would stumble when bringing out the food and that would stress the customers.

"I ask James about the parts I don't understand tomorrow."

Gulf lay on the sola for a while gazing at the menu before a deep sleep swallowed him up

"I'll do better tomorrow than I did today. And then...I know he'll..."

He finally drifted off, mumbling to himself.

TBC