2014 Prompt Responses - 34. Prompt 360

“Why do I even bother?” I muttered to myself. My new employee was hopeless. After two weeks he still hadn’t grasped even the basic aspects of his job.

“Uh…boss… you may want to go over to table five. I think you need to do some smoothing over.” Sheri, my head waitress, rolled her eyes.

“Great.” I plastered a smile on my face and walked over to the seething customers. “My name is Jack and I’m the owner. I was just wondering how you were enjoying your meal?”

“We’re not,” the man said shortly. “I specifically asked for no onion and this salad is riddled with them! I’m allergic to onions!”

“And I asked for no peppers in my pasta. This looks like it has extra peppers!” His companion scowled.

I picked up both of their plates. “Please accept my deepest apologies. I’ll take these back and have our chef prepare new dishes immediately.”

“I certainly hope we are not going to be charged for our inconvenience,” the man said.

“Of course not. Your entrees are on the house.”

I walked into the kitchen and gave the chef the order for the refire. I then went in search of the screw-up. I found him in the back alley outside the restaurant, sitting with his back to the wall. His head was in his hands and he appeared to be crying. My anger lessened.

“Sean.”

He jumped and hurriedly wiped his eyes.

“Jack! I’m so sorry! I won’t screw up again! I’ll try harder, I promise! Please don’t fire me. I really need this job!”

“What are you doing out here? You have customers that are waiting for you.”

“You aren’t firing me?” he sniffled.

“We’ll have a little chat after your shift. In the meantime, the refire for table seven should be ready. I’m comping the entrees for them and for table five. You’re costing me a lot of money, young man.”

He grimaced. “I’m sorry about that. I thought I wrote their requests down right, but apparently I didn’t.”

“We’ll talk about it later. Get back to work.”

“Yes, sir.”

Sean finished the rest of his shift without major mishap. He spilled a drink all over a customer’s lap, but that was pretty minor where he was concerned. I sat in my office after the dinner shift, reviewing the receipts for the day when I heard a soft knock. I looked up to see a terrified Sean standing in the doorway.

I motioned him in. “Have a seat.”

He sat in the chair opposite my desk, wringing his hands. He looked like he was about to start crying again.

“Tell me what you think of your performance.”

“I know I’m not the best. I can be a bit of a klutz and forget to write any changes to the orders down. I’m trying, though. I really am! It’s just that…” he trailed off, looking at the floor.

“It’s just what?”

“Well, I know you probably don’t care and I shouldn’t let it affect my job, but my parents kicked me out a couple months ago. I wasn’t able to get all that much out before they did. I was living with my boyfriend, but we just broke up. I have no idea where I’m going to sleep tonight. I really need this job so I can get an apartment.”

“In your interview you indicated that you had experience with waiting tables. You lied, didn’t you.”

He hung his head and whispered, “Yeah. I’m sorry. I just really needed the job! I thought I could do it!”

“Why did your parents kick you out?”

“Because I’m gay.”

I looked at him sympathetically. Unfortunately, I knew how he felt.

“Do you like to cook?”

He looked at me and his face lit up. “I love to cook. I wanted to apply for a cooking position, but you were only hiring waiters.”

“Do you have any experience? Tell the truth, this time.”

“My mom is a great cook and taught me how. I’ve never worked in a restaurant, though.”

“We have an opening for a prep cook. It involves a lot of chopping, cutting, and preparing the food to be cooked. Do you think you could handle that?”

“Yes, sir!” he beamed.

“You can start tomorrow. Hopefully you’ll be better at that than you are at waiting tables.”

“Yes, sir. Thank you, sir!”

“Don’t thank me yet. You still have to prove yourself.”

“Of course.”

I reached into my pocket and pulled out my wallet. I removed a couple hundred dollars and held it out to him. “Find a hotel room and let’s see what we can do about finding you an apartment.”

He looked at me, stunned. “I can’t accept this!”

“Yes, you can. Please. I won’t have an employee of mine living on the streets.”

“But you don’t even really know me. Why are you doing this?”

“Because no one was there for me when I was in the same situation. I can only hope that you make better choices than I did.”

He gave me a puzzled look. “But you’re a successful restaurant owner. You seem to have made some pretty good choices.”

I smiled wryly. “Believe me, that wasn’t always the case.” I pressed the money into his palm and closed his hand over it. “Consider it an advance. And don’t disappoint me.”

He smiled gratefully. “I won’t, sir.”