Eheh~ another chap~

A deep blue blazer buttoned only up to under my chest, a white blouse which had longer sleeves that arrived up to my wrists, black tight pants and shoes, the shoes were of course made to be comfortable to work in but at the same time they were quite elegant, as to not mismatch the restaurant’s feel. Both males and females were made to wear pants, as wearing a skirt not only would constrict movements but could also gave people the wrong idea, inciting acts of sexual harassment.

At first, working here was quite difficult. I wasn’t allowed in the dining area until I memorized the menu and the characteristic of each dish, plus I had to be able to fluently hold a conversation with a customer without trespassing personal spaces, both theirs and mine. Chatting with the customer is okay as long as it’s about the restaurant, no flirting or asking about personal information.

My only bad habit was that I used to not get too close with male customer. If it’s possible, I go near the female ones, other wise I just suck it up and do my work. While I do not suffer from androphobia, I don’t trust males that easily, more so if they resemble Jack. As my saviours, or something, I didn’t feel such mistrust toward Fred, Marco and Richard, nor toward any male in my family. Besides mom’s brother. Too touchy-feely.

Sticking my head out of the door, I observed the dining room of the first floor. My fellow co-workers had already finished placing the white tablecloth, a cylindrical, thin pot of fake myrtle and magnolia flowers, sets of tableware and black table napkins on each table. I entered the dining room and walked toward the stairs, the others should be still working there. Looking around, I saw that I had just been one time to see the last table being prepared.

I stopped and my gaze shifted toward one person, Martin. A middle-aged man whom you could not describe as neither chubby nor fit, he had a roman-type nose, hazel eyes, short black/brown hair on the sides of his head (he was almost bald, and he didn’t like it) some wrinkles caused from the countless amounts of grins he likes to make, Martin has always been a mischievous person, and lastly, white gloves. His hands were burnt when his house caught fire and he rescued his wife and daughters, successfully saving their lives at the measly cost of horribly disfiguring his body. I admired him.

“You can put up the ‘open’ sign now.”

His husky overlapped the clattering of tableware, catching my full attention. I made a small nod to acknowledge his words and turned around. From the windows near the double door I could see people nearing the restaurants. It wasn’t an unusual sight for customer to arrive just as we open. I unlocked the double door and opened it as I put myself to the side and motioned for the patrons to enter. Once they do, I hung our “open” sign on the left doorknob and close the doors.

Martin was talking with them with a smile on the face, asking what kind of table they wanted and where, at the same time Joshua, one of the other waiters, took their jackets and coats. I went toward the counter and then behind it, after a quick glance to the customers, I took out seven menus and followed behind the group up to the second floor. They choose a table not too distant from the stairs, somewhat in the center of the room and I waited until they all sat down before passing each of them a menu.

“Welcome to L’Espoir, would you like some water and refreshments while you decide?”

Continue reading here~