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 Right This Way To Catastrophe, Open
  • 126 yrs
  • Captivated by
  • James Raimenda
Posted On: Jul 28 2017, 07:48 PM
The tempting scents of fresh brewed coffee and bacon wafted above the sounds of clinking plates and gossip. Customers filled the lobby from wall to wall, waiting  to be lead to a table and ease their hangry urges.There had been no morning rush, much to Tarik's surprise, and had instead  been replaced by a lunch rush that was almost double it's normal size. Perhaps everybody had the same idea of sleeping in until noon and flocking to the nearest restaurant, like one of those flash mobs only they're stuffing their face instead of dancing.

Most of the time, he made sure to work the quieter evening shifts that didn’t get so busy. Sure that meant less tips for him to take home, but he didn’t mind as long as he didn’t have to battle the hangry hordes that the morning team dealt with. Unfortunately he found himself in the middle of said horde after being called into cover an ill coworker’s shift. Despite his wish to refuse, he accepted and spent the rest of the morning kicking himself while scurrying from table to table and carrying out ridiculous tasks for his guests. Who ordered coffee with lemon anyways?

“Order up, table twelve!” That was his cue. Weaving between the crowded tables of couples and families, Tarik made his way briskly to the kitchen where a large serving tray loaded with several platters and sides awaited him. He managed to lift and balance the large order one one hand just above his head, but found walking across the bustling room to be something of a nightmare. Only once did he slip, feeling the plates rattle slightly against the serving tray, making his anxiety spike for a few moments as he let out a slow breath. ” Almost there..” he assured himself, trying hard to keep the platters from shifting anymore than they had.

An eternity was an appropriate measurement of time when describing how long it took him to get from one side of the restaurant to the other, but he managed to do it unscathed and let out a relieved sigh. That wasn’t so bad, right? Now all he had to do was distribute the plates to the correct customer, and he could sneak back to the kitchen for a quick rest. His plan was interrupted by a request for another pitcher of water for the table to which he was forced to politely agree to. While he found the minor task to be irritating, it wasn’t like he would die if his break was offset by a few minutes.

The pitcher was heavy in his grasp, full of frigid ice water that attempted to slosh over the side of the plastic container. He had almost returned to his table when his heel suddenly slipped from under him. Gasping, he struggled to maintain his balance while being dragged around the floor by an icecube that hade made a home for itself just under his shoe. The scene was almost graceful in a way, Tarik struggling to keep himself and the full pitcher of water from crashing to the floor. The event lasted only a few seconds before the ice under his foot decided the shoot off and hide under a nearby table, sending Tarik to the floor while the pitcher lept from his hand and showered a nearby guest with a chilling assortment of ice and water.

*I’m so. fired.* the words raced through his mind as Tarik pulled himself from the sopping floor. From the looks of it, it seemed he had managed to spill most of the water onto the floor and avoid the guests. His relief turned to dread when he lifted his eyes,  noticing a patron dripping with the came cold liquid as himself. ” Oh, no. I am so sorry! Here, I.. I'll get you some towels..” He gasped, feeling the color drain from his face. Now he was fired for sure.
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