CW// Violence
CHAPTER 9
Them
Hello. I'm Karthik, a 20-year-old male who currently works as a cook in a Greek restaurant, which I have been doing for one year and one month.
Don't get me wrong, the pay was alright and the people were nice, it's just I wanted to advance to a greater height. Heck, about four months ago even my head chef thought I was ready. But the thing with going to another level is you can expect more difficulty. I know it's obvious, but for the first time in a while, I got good grades, in both of my semesters, so I thought this should be easy too. I just wasn't prepared to meet my one true enemy: the office pack.
It wasn't a busy day at the restaurant. My head chef gave me a trial run, to see if I could manage the roster, i.e. figure out what day and hour employees needed to come in and place it all on an Excel sheet. It was difficult, but I figured it out on paper and put it on the Excel template he gave me.
"This looks good. Now let's see the other sheet,"
The other sheet?
He clicked on the tab that I hadn't noticed before.
It was for wage cost and it was blank.
I looked at him scratching the back of my neck and said, "Can I try it one more time?"
He nodded his head.
So once again I did it all on paper and then placed all the numbers on the sheets.
He looked at it and clicked on the numbers.
"The formula's gone," he looked back at me confused, "Karthik, how did you get these numbers?"
I showed him my calculations.
"It's good that you know how to do this on paper, but you need to learn how to do it on the computer. If somebody changes the schedule or calls in sick how long will it take you to count everything again? You'll have to oversee other things than this."
"So, I'm not getting the promotion?"
"Look Karthik, I've said this before, you have great potential at becoming chef de parties; you can train the newbies well and you're a great cook, but you do need to learn how to properly use our systems. When you're ready we'll try again, okay?"
"Okay, chef."
When I got home, I noticed a video call from my mom. I called her back
"Sorry, ma. I've only just arrived home."
"Where did you go?"
"Work ma."
"Oh, that cooking job," she said in disdain.
I told myself to breathe in and out steadily. "How are you, ma?"
"Fine, da. Saaptiya? [Da: term to gesture closeness for males; Did you eat?]
"Yes, ma."
"Eat some more. Innu kuchiya theriyire ni [You look even more like a stick]"
I was at a pretty normal weight, my mom just likes to tell me to eat, "That's because you're not here to feed me," I said, grinning at her.
"Ayye siruppu paaru [Ooh look at that smile]," she said but she was starting to smile.
"I look handsome, right?"
YOU ARE READING
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