Don't Make It Bad

It’s 3.54pm.

The rush of the lunch hour died down slowly as new customers filed in for tea. The late afternoon crept in by the minute as my last day’s shift runs close to an end.

Tomorrow, business will be the same.

I smiled, waving to the young couple from Table 35 leaving the restaurant, who had praised me for my good attitude in serving them lunch. We had quite a hearty chat; they even explained what a pity it was and wished me the best of luck, knowing that it was my last day at the restaurant.

There’s a new trainee on the floor; maybe there’s just so much for him to learn today on his first day. Suddenly, my first day here 6 months ago seem too far to recall. Most of the senior wait staff I had known in my early months here have left; even the core menu has changed earlier this year. A familiar ring of the bell interrupted my thoughts, as I looked to my manager standing at the cash register, signaling to me. There are new customers at the door.

“Hi, welcome! Table for?”

......

Today, everything is as usual; nothing seems to be out of the ordinary. The pans are still fired up for the next orders, while the stereo overhead plays amid the noisy chatter of the last customers from lunch-time. Behind the counters, the sound of dishwater rinsing through soiled dishes accompanied the friendly banter between the chefs and the fellow staff from the cold side taking a rest. A table of nine lined up in the middle of the restaurant leaves empty glasses and dishes to be cleared while Table 5 calls for someone to take their order. I walked over quickly; it’s my last time taking an order.

“Goodbye! Thank you, see you again!” Like protocol, everyone on the shift stood by to bid customers goodbye as they exit, leaving a trail of noisy chatter resonating through the now fairly-empty restaurant in their wake.

I bid goodbye to the chefs and the other staff at the restaurant who have contributed to such a supportive working environment that was both enjoyable and memorable in my time there, as my manager counted the tips for the lunch shift and handed me a 2-dollar note. I stood at the front of the restaurant, knowing that it’s past my time to knock off. Reluctantly, I punched out.

......

It’s 5.36pm.

The restaurant is still bustling with activity. The cakes we’re famous for, still sit illuminated in the display cabinet. It’s my last day at the restaurant.

Tomorrow, business will be the same.