Jim walked out the back door and lit a cigarette. It had been his first in over an hour, and he relished the smoke in his lungs. Even the cold winter breeze hadn't bothered him as it was sweltering in the kitchen. He puffed away as he walked toward the shed, feeling the strong wind against his skin. The diner had been packed all morning, and he had been cooking with Jeff for six hours non-stop. I used to have a manager who could give me a break once and a while, he thought to himself as he headed into the shelter of the shed. Alex had been in the office at the computer when he had passed through to go out, and although he wasn't certain he could feel the eyes on him as we went. Let him go out there, Jim had thought. Alex had been 'training' as their new manager for two months now and no one had seen him on the line. He had heard from Jeff that he had gone on the line to train once during a busy lunch rush, had been on for less then a minute and then vanished. From what Jim and most of the morning crew could see, most of what Alex did was complain. Not openly to any of them personally, but in his notes that he posted every few weeks. The last one spoke of a 'culture' of laziness and a thinly veiled threat of termination if anyone didn't tow the line.
'Is he still here?' Margie asked as Jim entered the shed. 'Yeah, he's here. In the office, probably arguing with Gary.' They had been arguing all morning, all through the morning rush, they could hear them in the office arguing. 'Yeah, they've been at it from the start.' Margie remarked. 'You watch out,' Jim replied. 'He'll get you too. He's not Frank.' From Alex's actions the past few weeks it seemed as if his entire mission as the new manager was to remind everyone that he was not, in fact, Frank. The notes had continued, this time in a more hostile vein. They spoke of a 'culture,' of laziness, and contained thinly veiled threats of termination if they didn't 'Shape up.' Jim picked up the paper and took a look at the want ads. He always had took a look at the help wanted ads, just to see what was out there, to keep his options open. The first ad that caught his eye as he opened was an ad for the diner, cooks, dishwashers and waitstaff. 'I may spend a lot of time out here but I always get my shit done.' Margie remarked. It had been her argument from the start.
Still it was different with Frank. He came out to the shed for smoke breaks as much as them. He also like scratch tickets and coffee, it was obvious on some level that he was one of them. Alex was different, he didn't smoke, didn't make too many attempts to fraternize with them, he didn't even drink coffee. 'We only have 2 cases of fries left in the freezer.' Jim said finishing his cigarette. 'When that's gone were out, I told Alex but he didn't say anything.' Margie had just finished her cigarette. 'Those two messing everything up out there?' Jim nodded. Jackie and Judy, the two waitresses' were always messing up orders, leaving food in the window for too long, making mistakes, which caused them to have to have the cook remake orders. 'We've already had to comp about half the ticket because they took too long bringing them out.' Jim said. He got up, 'I'm out at four so I don't care. But their probably going to run out of fries later.' Jim walked outside the wind had picked up again. He noticed Alex's car was gone. Figures, he thought, as he walked through the back door.
Lindsay picked up the buspan full of dishes and placed it on Sonny's station. 'I was going to get that!!' he yelled to her as she walked away but she ignored him. All of the buspan's had been full since the start of the shift at 4 and Sonny had acted like he hadn't noticed them. Now all of the buspan's out on the floor were full and there was a new generation of dishes that had accumulated at the tables since the start of her shift. Sonny, meanwhile had done everything but actually do the dishes. He had taken out all the trash, swept and mopped the prep area, even cleaned all the small area near the dish machine but 3 hours into his shift had yet to do a single dish. This is ridiculous Lindsay thought as she brought over the next pan of dishes. 'If you want I could go slower.' Sonny said as she dropped off the pan at the dish station. 'There's no way to go slower than you're going.' She said harshly. She didn't mean to sound to cruel but this had been going on for weeks. Sonny had been one of the first Alex hires, shortly after they had reopened.
At first Sonny had seemed great, a good addition to the lineup. But it wasn't long before his true nature started to come through. First he would complain when he first showed up about the dishes at his station, and continue to do so throughout the shift. Then when one of the waitstaff or cooks complained about the lack of dishes he would only respond, 'I'll get to it when I can!' You don't get it to it 'When you can' Lindsay had thought you get to it right away, it's you're fucking job, you're the fucking dishwasher. Lindsay walked up to the computer and started to put in an order. Sonny had finally started to do his job from what she could see. I thought things were supposed to change around here, Lindsay thought as she put in the order. It wasn't even that busy, relatively speaking, for a Saturday but Sonny kept doing things the way he always did. 'We need plates!' She heard one of the Cooks yell from behind the window, and wondered which one it was. She had heard the same plea several times already during her shift but this time it was the loudest.
Upon hearing it she had determined it had to be Mike, another one of Alex's hires. He was one of the better ones, a stocky guy with dreadlocks, he seemed to be better then most though he plated things strangely sometimes. She look through the window and it looked like Sonny had finally started doing something. Thank god, she thought as he started to put in an order. It wasn't even busy yet but at this rate he would be backed up if he didn't put something through soon. She had mentioned all of this to Alex but he hadn't seemed to take much of an interest in it. He had nodded and said he had said something to Sonny about it but nothing had changed. Fucking typical, Lindsay thought, as usual. They were also out of french fries, so she had been subbing onion rings, but still it was embarrassing and she noticed since Alex took over it happened with greater frequency than it ever had before. It wasn't trivial things either, it was things they ran through at lot of-white bread, turkey, french fries, eggs. He always had some kind of excuse too, they were busy over the weekend, he had pressed the wrong button when he was ordering, things like that. It was never his fault, of course.
Lindsay knew Gary was a blowhard and a teller of tall tales, but he at least did some work. Prepping mainly. Alex seemed to be content to sit behind the computer and do-ordering? That was what she assumed recent events seemed to contradict that theory. Lindsay finished putting in the order as Mike up one up in the window. I feel like I've been waiting for this for at least 20 minutes, and all it was was a burger an omelette and some pancakes. Lindsay picked up the order from the window and took it out to it's table, as she did she took a brief glance at the clock. It was only 7 and thing's were already going wrong. The other waitress, Amber was 15 and had to leave at ten so she already knew she was in it for the long haul. She delivered the plates to the table, a group of truckers who sounded like they were from somewhere in the south, 'Enjoy.' She said. At least one of the cooks will be leaving at 10, she thought, I hope it's Mike.
'Hey man, do you think I can take off?' Mike asked Kevin as he walked in from the office. There were two small slips on the board and Kevin had started both. 'Yeah, sure.' Kevin replied, somewhat reluctantly. He had stayed late this past two shifts he'd worked and was hoping to get out early. He wanted to say something but he knew he couldn't, Mike had gotten there first. Plus Mike was Alex's guy, from what he was hearing. He told him everything, talked about people, had his ear. He could very well say something about him. Still he was ok enough to work with, he had taken him outside twice to smoke a bowl, for which Kevin had been grateful, still there was something strange about him. He seemed like someone who wouldn't hesitate to turn you in if he had the chance. Kevin flipped two pancakes and pulled up a couple orders of fries from the fryer. He had been hoping to make a trip to the store at some point during his shift, but now that was ruled out. He knew Lindsay could cook if she had to but he didn't want to ask her. He could tell she was irritated by Sonny and having to stay and he didn't want to add to that. I can still make it to the Afterworks, he thought as he started plating the order. He knew one of the bartenders there who would sometimes hook him up if it was late, and it's sure going to be late this time. As he put the order in the window he noticed he only had two large plates left, where the fuck is Sonny? He thought.
Sam looked into his beer as he sat at the sparse counter at the Afterworks. It was a Thrusday night and the few there were the regulars and the dedicated alcoholics. He could always tell them when he saw them, he could always recognize his own kind. The way they drank, they way they hung over it as if it were the one thing giving them purpose, reason to live. Their only friend. I'm feeling good, he thought as he took a long draw of his beer. For the first damn time in this whole godforsaken day I actually feel good. Happy. It was hard to explain to someone who did not share his affliction. True he knew he would not feel this way in the morning, but the morning didn't matter now. Nothing mattered, not his job, his relationship, his depression, nothing. He was just here, in the moment, and it felt great.
'He's just helping me get through some things.' Andrea had explain when he had asked her what she was doing with Kevin. When pressed further about what those 'things' were she had refused to elaborate. 'You know he's kind of like my shrink ok?' She had said finally. Sam had wanted to protest, to fully express his opinion about Kevin but before he began he stopped himself. First of all this tact might only draw her more to Kevin and second it was quite likely that she was already aware of his opinion on the subject. A friend had once told him that he had a hard time hiding it when he didn't like someone. He gestured toward the bartender, 'Could I get a shot of Jim Beam?' He asked. He fished into his wallet and took out a 20, he knew it was money he didn't really have, but he couldn't help it. She poured the shot and he looked at her as she did, she was a cute blond, who had the look of someone who had been through a lot.
After he had fought with Andrea they had eventually made up. Even had some good make up sex, but something was still off. He could tell at first when she had left at 3AM instead of staying at his house. That wasn't entirely strange, as she did that often. She said she didn't like to sleep in other peoples beds. It was more apparent when he had called her earlier to tell her he wouldn't be coming over tonight. She had said 'Ok.' In a way that indicated relief, more then anything else. He knew what it was like to be in failing relationship, he had been in one before. You're still a free agent, a voice said to him in the back of his skull. There are plenty of fish in the sea. It chimed in. I know all of this, he thought to himself, yet still, it was hard. It had been over 3 years without anything when he had hooked up with Andrea. I don't want to go back to that, he thought. I just escaped single-land, I have no desire to return.
Sam swallowed the shot in one gulp, chasing it with his beer. 'Going all the way tonight tiger?' A woman a couple of seats next to him asked. She was older, maybe in her forties, and voluptuous just his type. 'Yeah, thinking about work.' 'Where do you work?' She asked him. As they talked he could tell she was interested in him, this was more then the usual chit-chat. He had always thought it was interesting that it was always impossible for a man to tell weather a woman was really interested, or just being 'nice,' but if she really wanted a man to know, he could always tell. 'Do you want to come back to my place?' She asked finally. 'Try some pot?' I should say no, at this point Sam thought. I should tell her I'm taken but thank for the offer, but I can't at this time. Instead all he could muster was, 'Sure.'
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