Chapter 2
March 15th, a year ago. Harley Hotel, Manhattan.
It was seven o’clock, bang in the middle of Saturday evening service. A waiter was taking food orders. He disliked his job, but was staying in it until he could find something better paid; for the amount of hours he worked here, it didn’t seem worth it.
‘Right, so those people over there are having the steak... and the table of five to my left are having... oh, shit!’
He walked up to the table on his left, clearing his throat as he walked over. Five days on the job and he was still terrified of talking to the customers who dined here in the restaurant.
“Excuse me sir, sorry to bother you again. I hope you don’t mind, but could you run through your order again?”
“I have already been through it once for you, but if we must…” The diner told him their order for the second time, and then muttered something under his breath.
The waiter didn’t catch what he said but was just too busy to care tonight.
“Thank you, sir. I apologize again. Enjoy your evening.”
The waiter, whose name was Todd, walked through the restaurant knowing perfectly well that there were dozens of impatient eyes watching him as he made his way through the swing doors and into the kitchen, throwing the check down on the side as he went through.
The head chef stood there, ready to find fault. “No table number. What’s the table number?”
‘Shit, shit, what was it..? Just make it up.’ “Uh... table twenty,” he replied despondently.
“Check on guys! Three fish, one mushroom, one soup, Mains: four chicken, one salmon, extra veg.” The head chef glanced over at Todd, giving him that ‘what are you still doing here?’ look.
He went back into the restaurant and stood near the bar, looking through his order pad to make sure he hadn’t missed anything before he went to help out at the bar. That was where he preferred to be in the evening, it was less stressful. He just hated serving in a busy, hot restaurant full of obnoxious customers that he didn’t really care for. Still, he had taken this job, so it was really his own fault for taking it, knowing full well that he wouldn’t enjoy it. In his mind, though, he still preferred to blame this bad decision on others; it made it easier to bear.
He took drinks over to various tables during the next hour of service and then began serving food. One plate smashed messily to the floor. It was embarrassing enough having to ask customers to repeat their orders and this didn’t help matters. His supervisor, who was on the floor at the time, had noticed but it was Todd’s first week and everyone made a few mistakes in their first week.
Closing down at the end of his shift, Todd was now left to clear up the bar which had been left in such a state, only he was brave enough to tackle it. It was quiet in the bar area; the kitchen had been alive and buzzing only an hour ago and now everything was still and eerily quiet. Then he realised that he was the only one left.
‘Only a few more glasses to polish then I can get the hell out...’
He finished off the remaining wine glasses from the small dishwasher beneath the counter, and then closed the bar shutters. After locking everything up, he left through the front doors and passed a maintenance guy who was sweeping up out front. He gave him a brief nod, but the guy did not notice and continued his sweeping.
Todd walked home that night after a busy week. He walked alone as he always would do until he met someone. He had been single for five years; he was desperate.
