🎶A 100 bad days mean a 100 good stories ~ AJR
●Tara Afua Henrie●
"Ok." I set the plates of food in front of the customers seated in the farthest corner of the restaurant. Just as I was about to leave, the blond lady at the table grabbed my arm and shook her head. "Esta no es nuestra comida."
"Erm." I cleared my throat. "Pardon?"
Her gentleman friend spoke up in a thick Mexican accent. "This is not what we ordered."
"Oh." My face heated up with embarrassment. Not this again.
Both of them stared at me quizzically
"I'll... erm... I'll just... take it back then." I placed the orders back on the tray and scurried off, feeling two sets of eyes bore holes into the back of my head. Roberto slipped past me, trying his best to balance a different set of meals on his good hand.
I put the tray on the counter next to Areli, who had just handed a take-out bag to a customer. She turned to me, and the look on my face said one word to her--frustration.
"Wrong table?" Areli queried.
"It's the fifth time today," I groaned. "This waitressing thing is harder than I thought."
"Relax, Tara. It's just your first day," Areli assured me while sifting through order slips. "No one expects you to be immediately good at it. These things take time. Soon, you'll be serving tables with your eyes closed," she smiled, and I couldn't resist smiling back.
Areli has been super helpful today. When I, unfortunately, messed up my first order, she apologized to the customers on my behalf, explaining that I was new and took care of their orders. She also tried teaching me some Spanish when there weren't many customers around, but my brain refused to grasp a new language, so we stopped. I thanked her for her efforts, though. She was a true gem.
"Aha!' Areli exclaimed after finding the order slip for the food on the counter. "This order goes to table six."
"And which one is it?" I cast a look around the restaurant. This job would be much easier if the table numbers were actually on the tables. I made a mental note to tell Pam about them after work.
Areli pointed to the correct table, occupied by two female college students engrossed in a video chat. I thanked her, quickly delivered the meals to the correct table, and hurried off.
Almost at the counter, my feet suddenly decided to go against my will, causing me to trip and stumble. Before I could make contact with the floor, someone stopped me.
"Whoa! Are you ok, Tara?" Roberto's hot breath hit my face as he helped me stand properly. I gave him a nod, letting my eyes shift down to see my left shoelace untied and sprawled on the floor.
Stooping down to tie them back, the buzz of chatter and the clink of cutlery against china suddenly faded away, leaving just the sounds of footsteps clapping on the marbled floor. I shoved the laces into the side of my shoe and stood up, wondering what the unexpected silence was about.
Two grim figures, clad in black suits and a pair of black shades, walked past Roberto and me. They escorted a young man, impeccably dressed in a grey suit, and a lady, sporting a tight dark blue suit with matching heels, to a table beside the window.
The young man with luscious-styled hair removed his shades and pulled the chair out for the lady with a dashing smile. She sent him a seductive one in return as she planted herself on the chair. One bodyguard pulled out a chair for the young man, and he sat down, immediately launching into a conversation with his lady friend. The terrifying bodyguards retreated, standing guard at the entrance.
YOU ARE READING
GuiTara
ChickLit*Completed* Becoming a big-time pop music sensation was the last thing Tara Henrie expected when she moved to Mexico City. After getting fired for assaulting her co-worker due to a personal issue, 22-year-old Tara has to move all the way from Ghana...