Writing Prompts - Foretelling

[2]

- A little bit of hope -

"A creamy tomato soup, a roast beef and a strawberry ice cream cone for table three please!"

Before the waiter had finished shouting his latest order through the crowded kitchen, the head chef of the restaurant already knew what food to prepare and which table it was for.

Every wednesday without pause this older gentleman, an elderly man nearing his seventies, always dressed in a neat suit and cute round glasses as well as a chic hat, would come into the restaurant and order the same thing.

Every single time.

At first it was nice - the routine of having a customer who was easy to serve, with no extra wishes and other complications. But after months, nearly a year, of the same dishes, it was getting infuriating.

The chef of the restaurant was a famous chef, known for her delicious cooking, her diverse dishes as well as her food experiments. So having a customer who didn't challenge her, who didn't even try a different food once? It was frustrating. But kind of a challenge in itself. One she wasn't afraid to take.

"The tomato soup for table three!", she heard one of her sauciers shout as the appetizer was handed to the same waiter from before.

Quickly she notified her sous chef with a quick hand gesture that she was in charge of the kitchen for now and headed to the waiter.

"Dennis, let me do it," she said and took the tray with the soup, as well as a small basket of warm Mozzarella Crostini from his hands.

He just raised an eyebrow and looked after her without saying anything.

After all, the whole kitchen knew of her desire to change the man's mind.

- • -

"Good evening," she greeted him as she placed the food in front of him; then tucked the tray under her arm and leaned slightly on the opposite chair.

"Ahh!", he exclaimed and smiled up at her, a dimple popping in his left cheek and crow's feet appearing around his eyes. "Hello, my dear. How are you?"

"Ah, the same as always."

"Stressed, tired and full of coffee?", he asked cheekily.

She laughed. "No no, none of that, I'm fine really."

A small pause.

"Okay, maybe a little tired and full of caffeine, but I love my job, so that is a risk I am willing to take," she admitted.

He smiled softly.

"Speaking of my love for my job -", she began and leaned a bit more against the chair, "- are you sure, that I can't tempt you to try something different this time? The salmon is really good, if I can say so myself."

"I'm afraid not."

"Alright, but I swear to you, one day you will," she replied and leaned back, lightly slapping the table as if to underline her words.

"But for now I will leave you to your food," she said, leaned forward in a small bow and walked away.

Wednesday was one of her favourite days of the week. Not just because of the older gentleman, but also because firstly, it was the middle of the week and thus the weekend was nearing; slowly but surely (don't get her wrong, she loved her job, but that didn't mean that it wasn't tiring or stressful and after five days of being nearly all day on her feet, she craved a weekend spent in her bed). And secondly, because there weren't a lot of customers; for some reason. It was quite funny actually, on Tuesday and Thursday there were always more customers than on Wednesday.