Ghosting Madness

Chapter 04

04: Change of Track
"The hardest thing in life
is to find out how hard it is."

This is it. There's no turning back.

"ANO NA?! Bukas pa ba tayo makakapag-serve? Nilalangaw na ang lahat, wala pa ring plato!"

Napabalikwas ako sa gulat nang biglang umalingawngaw ang sigaw ni Sir Kes sa loob ng kusina. Literal na napunta sa kaniya ang atensiyon ng buong staff, lahat kami napatigil sa ginagawa namin.

"It's 5:00 PM already yet we haven't reached our quota!" he added, heightening the tenacity of the air and the pressure laid upon our shoulders.

Ano ba 'tong pinasok ko . . .

It's been two weeks after I found a decent part-time job. Unluckily, the place I've found was the restobar famous for its difficult tasks.

I had no choice because it's the middle of a semester and job openings are quite rare. So during my first week, I had to wash dishes every 3 o'clock PM until 7 in the evening just to have money to fill in my growing expenses.

Turned out, umabot na pala sa limit ang nailabas kong pera mula sa credit card ko. It would take a couple of months bago ma-refresh ulit iyon.

I sighed.

I really need to pump my muscles out during Fridays and Saturdays now. Sanay naman ako sa trabaho sa probinsiya kaya hindi naman ako nahihirapan. Naninibago lang ang katawan ko dahil sumasabay pa ang workloads ko sa shift ko minsan.

Ngayon alam ko na kung bakit maraming mga taga-sa'min ang hindi nagtatagal sa Maynila.

Napakahirap pala talagang kumita ng pera.

"Huwag mong madaliin yan! Wash it properly, clean like porcelain," he shouted at me. It was so stern, I could hear his teeth grit and clench.

"MOVE!"

"Sorry, Chef!" I bowed continuously before washing off the soap on the pile of dishes in front of me.

"Warning, part-timer. Baka mapatalsik kita dito nang maaga."

Napapikit na lang ako sa inis. Hindi puwede. Hindi puwedeng mawala sa'kin 'to. I can still remember how horrible my application was . . . for they almost drop my resumè due to lack of experience. Until they found out, I'm a promdi girl, and fortunately, we are deemed hardworking carabaos.

I slightly pinch my cheeks.

'Kaya mo 'to, Joshel,' I muttered to myself.

The moment I felt a sting against my skin, I started moving my muscles to match the pace of my co-staffs. Lather. Rinse. Lather. Rinse. It was a continuous cycle I couldn't escape for hours.

"Soup base done. Please check, Chef!"

"Chef, ingredients . . . ready . . . main course!"

"Chef, appetizer sauce . . . done!"

Hindi ko alam pero kahit na mag-iisang linggo pa lang ako dito, nasanay na agad ang sistema ko sa ingay na naririnig ko. Naging normal na para sa'kin ang sigawan sa pagitan ng mga kitchen staff at sa head chef dahil sa laki at demand ng trabaho. We need the speed and endurance to survive this war.

To my horror, my shift is for afternoon snacks and dinner, where most of their customer surge in.

"FASTER!"

"YES, CHEF!" Dito rin ako ulit natutong sumigaw.

Ingat na ingat kong ibinigay sa katrabaho ko ang mga mga nabanlawan kong plato at cups. Siya ang naka-tokang magpunas at i-deliver sa push cart ang mga iyon sa loob at labas ng kusina.