“Bill! I swear to God if you don’t get me some clean plates in the next few minutes I’m going to smash that radio you keep fiddling with!” Marty yelled from the busy kitchen. Rush hour was always like this, the dish washer got distracted by the radio, and the lack of clean dishes put strain on everyone.

Working for Arctic Storm Entertainment wasn’t too bad. The restaurant at company headquarters wasn’t fine dining, but helped provide a relaxed atmosphere for employees on their breaks. Plus, everyone got a nice discount. Most departments worked together to stagger their lunch hours, so the entire place wasn’t packed all at once. While that reduced a lot of the strain on the waitresses and cooks, it also prolonged the lunch rush so that it really spanned about three hours instead of one or two.

Storming back into the back, Marty leveled a glare when he found Bill once again changing the radio station instead of cleaning the stacks of plates arranged on the counter. “Did you hear me Bill?”

“Huh? Oh hey there Marty, I got plates for you!”

“It’s about time, and I swear if I come back and you are messing with that radio instead of washing the dishes, I’m sending the radio through the dishwasher.”

“Fine, don’t get your panties in a twist.”

Rushing back into the kitchen, Marty dumped the plates onto his counter and got back to flipping the burgers on the grill. Getting back into the groove of tickets, his mind wandered. While a line cook wasn’t the most prestigious of jobs out there, it did come with several benefits. He was one of the only bachelors he knew that could cook damn near anything with a grill and a fryer. The perpetually hot kitchen and constant running meant he really didn’t have to watch what he ate either. Plus, he got nights off and made enough that there was usually plenty of entertainment cash after bills tried to eat his paychecks. Sure, it wasn’t the lap of luxury, but Marty didn’t need that.

As the rush was winding down, Marty started taking a quick stock of what needed refilling. Burgers would be ok for one more night, tenderloins needed prepped, tomorrow’s special needed prepped

“MARTY!”

“Eh?!” Spinning around, he saw his helper Jennifer staring at him.

“I said, you got someone out front asking to talk to you. Table three.”

Quickly washing his hands and wiping the sweat from his forehead, Marty headed out to see who could possibly be there to talk to him. He was pretty much slaved to the kitchen areas, so there weren’t a lot of people he knew from upstairs. Walking into the dining room, his heart fluttered a bit seeing the head of HR sitting alone looking straight at him. Nothing good ever came from talking with HR, and Marty was one of many who subscribed to the belief that HR was there for the good of the company, not the good of the employees.

“Hello, I’m Marty,” he said as soon as he got up to the table. “Did you need to speak with me?”

“Yes, I’m Priscilla Dawson, Head of HR. I need you to come to a meeting after your shift here ends. Nothing terrible, don’t worry about that. The 39th floor, speak to the receptionist and she will direct you where to go. What time can I expect you?”

Crap, nothing to worry about? Nobody gets called in by the head of HR for nothing. Marty thought to himself. “I’ll be off at 3:30.” He replied.

“Excellent, I’ll see you then.”

Marty spent the next few hours in a fugue. At one point he even spent five minutes washing the same spot on one potato. A slap on the back startled him out of his funk.

“I think it’s clean there Marty!” Sandra, his replacement said.

“Hey Sandra, sorry. I’m a bit out of it today.”

“No shit, although you got one of the cleanest potatoes I’ve ever seen. So where we at on the prepping?

“Next to nowhere. Sorry, I learned at lunch I have a meeting with HR and I’ve been obsessing about it ever since I learned about it. Here’s the list of what I should’ve done but never got around to.”

“Ouch, well I should be able to handle it. You aren’t good for anything else today, and I can’t quite blame you for that. Head on out and hopefully I’ll see you tomorrow. Take care.”

“Thanks Sandra, I’m out. Hopefully I’ll be better tomorrow.”