"Man, I miss Chris, his shifts are always cool. Instead, I just had to work on the day that damn tyrant showed up."
Jonathan thought to himself. He stood behind the kitchen sink, spraying down each utensil and kitchen equipment with the jet wash. The restaurant itself had barely been open for long, and already the place buzzed with the low hum of kids' laughter, with their parents collectively making noise and talking to each other.
He caught his reflection in the sink, noting the dark circles under his eyes- a testament to his miserable and depressing life.
"Jonathan!" The sharp voice of his manager, cut through the steady noise of the restaurant, yanking him out of his thoughts. Jonathan tensed, bracing himself for the inevitable.
Indira stormed to the back of the store, where Jonathan was diving into this disgusting sink, her black glasses glinting under the fluorescent lights, her straight black hair pulled back tightly into a ponytail that seemed to strain against her scalp.
Her thick, curvy figure was cloaked in the standard Chucky Cheese manager uniform, but her commanding presence made it look more like a military outfit. She had the posture of a drill sergeant and the temperament to match.
"Are you deaf or just lazy?" she snapped, her thick Eastern European accent making the words sound harsher. "I've been calling you for the last two minutes, and all you do is stand there like a statue!"
Jonathan bit back a retort. The truth was, he had heard her for the first time, but sometimes it felt like defying her in small, subtle ways was the only form of rebellion he had left. Indira was a menace, but she was usually especially hard on Jonathan, probably as a result of his stinky attitude.
"Can you chill out? I'm doing what you told me to. Like jeez, you don't have to go full-on T. rex mode on me." Jonathan answered back, avoiding eye contact.
Indira scoffed. "Chill out? Watch your tone when speaking to me, otherwise, I'll write you up, which would make it your fifth write-up of the month. That would mean a suspension, and I'm sure that situation wouldn't be ideal for you, right?"
Jonathan straightened, squaring his shoulders. "Ok, fine, what do you need me to do?" Jonathan asked, this time giving eye contact. "I need you to help out in front; the orders are piling up as well as the delivery ones," Indira replied.
"I'll get to it now," Jonathan said. "You better," Indira said, her voice low and dangerous, "or you'll be scrubbing the deck in the crew room for a week straight. And don't think I won't do it. I have no patience for slackers." He swallowed hard. The last thing he wanted was to scrub floors on his hands and knees, "Understood."
Indira's expression shifted, a smug smile spreading across her face. "Good. Since you seem to think you know how to run things here, I've got a special job for you today." Jonathan frowned. "What kind of job?" Indira folded her arms, clearly enjoying the power she held over him. "We've got a new employee starting today. His first shift. You'll be responsible for showing him the ropes."
Jonathan nearly laughed out loud. That was it? Babysitting a newbie was hardly the punishment she thought it was. "Sure, no problem," he said, shrugging casually. "I'll take care of him."Indira's smile widened and something in her eyes told Jonathan he might have underestimated the situation.
"I'm glad you're so confident, Jonathan. Because if he doesn't meet our standards, I'll know exactly who to blame." Jonathan didn't flinch. "He'll be fine. Trust me."
"We'll see," she said, as she turned her back, marching back toward the manager's office. Jonathan let out a long breath, shaking his head. He'd dealt with new hires before - most of them wide-eyed teenagers who were more interested in getting the other female crew members' numbers than actually working. How bad could this new kid be?
As if on cue, the front door of the restaurant swung open, and Jonathan turned to see the new hire walk in. His heart sank. Greg, the new employee, was a towering figure. He had to be at least six foot three, but his height was more than matched by his stocky, almost obese frame. His short brown hair stuck out in tufts from beneath the Chucky Cheese employee cap he was already wearing, and his uniform shirt stretched tight across his bulk.
But it wasn't Greg's size that made Jonathan's stomach twist in anxiety; it was the vacant, almost childlike expression on his face. Greg ambled up to the counter, his movements slow and awkward. He gave Jonathan a wide, goofy grin, his chubby cheeks pushing his eyes into squints.
"Hi! I'm Greg. I'm new here."
Jonathan forced a smile. "Yeah, I figured. I'm Jonathan. I'll be training you today.
"YAY!!" Greg shouted, his voice booming through the restaurant, drawing a few curious glances from nearby tables.
Jonathan was taken aback by the sheer volume that the air from his breath nearly blew his employee cap off.
He sighed, "Let's get started, shall we?" said Jonathan as he led the way, while Greg followed.
"First, we need to get you set up behind the counter," Jonathan said, motioning for Greg to follow him. "There's a lot to learn, but we'll start with the basics."
Greg lumbered after him; nearly knocking over a trash can as he went. Jonathan gritted his teeth. Maybe this wouldn't be as easy as he thought. Once they were behind the counter, Jonathan began explaining how the cash register worked, how to take orders, and the importance of keeping things clean and organized. Greg nodded along, but it was clear he wasn't absorbing much of what Jonathan was saying.
His attention seemed to wander, his eyes darting around the restaurant like a kid in a candy store. Jonathan was mid-sentence when he noticed Greg's hand slowly inching up to his nose. He watched in horror as Greg stuck a finger in and began to root around with abandon.
"Greg, stop that!" Jonathan hissed, his voice low but urgent. Greg looked at him, his finger still lodged in his nostril. "Stop what?" "That!" Jonathan gestured frantically at Greg's hand. "You can't do that here. This is a restaurant!"
Greg withdrew his finger, looking genuinely puzzled. "Why not? I had an itch." Jonathan pinched the bridge of his nose, feeling a headache coming on. "Just... just don't do it, okay? It's gross, and it's not hygienic."
"Oh, okay," Greg said, wiping his finger on his shirt. Jonathan winced. "Let's move on to the next thing. See that coffee machine over there? We're going to go over how it works."
Greg's eyes lit up as they approached the machine. "Ooh, buttons!" Jonathan opened his mouth to explain, but Greg was already mashing buttons at random, his large hands moving with surprising speed. The coffee machine sputtered, gurgled, and then began spewing hot coffee all over the counter.
"Greg, stop!" Jonathan yelled, rushing forward to try and stop the chaos. Greg backed away, his hands held up in surrender. "I was just pressing the buttons like you said!"
"I didn't say press all of them!" Jonathan shouted as he fumbled to shut the machine off. He grabbed a towel and started mopping up the spilled coffee, his frustration mounting by the second. Greg watched him, his expression one of mild curiosity.
"You should've told me, silly Billy!" he said innocently. Jonathan's hands were shaking as he wiped the counter. He took a deep breath, trying to calm himself. "Okay, let's try something else. How about stocking the napkins? That's easy."
Greg nodded eagerly. "I can do that!" Jonathan pointed to the boxes of napkins stored under the counter. "Just take these and fill the holders at the tables. Simple, right?" "Got it!" Greg said, grabbing a box with more enthusiasm than necessary. Jonathan watched as Greg started his task, feeling a small sense of relief.
At least this was something even Greg couldn't mess up. He turned back to the counter, focusing on taking orders from the growing line of customers. But the reprieve didn't last long. A sudden whoosh of sound made Jonathan's head snap up. He turned around to see Greg standing in the middle of the restaurant, holding a fire extinguisher in his hands. The nozzle was pointed directly at a group of kids in the play area.
"Greg, no!" Jonathan shouted, but it was too late. Greg squeezed the handle, and a cloud of white foam erupted from the extinguisher, coating the kids, the tables, and everything within a ten-foot radius. The children screamed, some in fear, others in delight, as they were enveloped in the foam.
Jonathan felt like his head was going to explode. He dropped everything and sprinted across the restaurant, grabbing the extinguisher out of Greg's hands. "What the hell are you doing?" he yelled, his voice trembling with anger. Greg blinked at him, looking genuinely confused. "I thought it was for cleaning." Jonathan stared at him, his mouth hanging open in disbelief. He didn't know whether to scream or cry. He was beyond anger; he was on the verge of a complete meltdown.
Without another word, he shoved the extinguisher into Greg's hands. "Stay here. Don't move. Don't touch anything. I'll be right back." Greg nodded obediently, his face blank and uncomprehending. Jonathan stormed through the restaurant, his vision tunneling as he made a beeline for the manager's office. He didn't bother knocking; he burst through the door, slamming it behind him.
Indira looked up from her paperwork. Alice, who was also in today, stopped looking at her computer to check what was going on. Indira raised an eyebrow in surprise. "What's the matter, Jonathan? You look like you've seen a ghost."
"I can't do this," Jonathan said, his voice cracking with desperation. "I can't look after Greg. He's a complete idiot! He just sprayed half the restaurant with a fire extinguisher!" Indira leaned back in her chair, her expression unreadable. "And whose fault is that?"
Jonathan gaped at her. "Indira, you've got to be kidding me! Greg has no idea what he's doing. I've tried to teach him, but he just doesn't get it! He almost wrecked the coffee machine, and now half the restaurant looks like it's been hit by a snowstorm!" Indira's lips curled into a slight, almost mocking smile.
"Perhaps if you were more diligent in your training, he wouldn't have made those mistakes."Jonathan felt a wave of panic rising in his chest. He knew he was a stuck-up egghead sometimes, but he didn't deserve that. Not Greg, anyone, but Greg.
"Indira, please! I'll do anything else - scrub floors, take extra shifts, whatever you want. Just don't make me babysit him!" Alice, who had never seen Jonathan so desperate in her life, sympathized with him.
"Maybe you should give him a break, Indira. It's the kid's first day. It's a lot to take on." Indira leaned forward, her gaze piercing. "And what do you suggest, Alice? That we coddle him? Lower our standards for one person? It would cause quite a ruckus and commotion from the other employees."
Alice hesitated, clearly weighing her words. "No. But we can be smart about this. Maybe pair him with someone else for a while—someone who can handle his... quirks better. Jonathan's already had a rough week. Let him focus on what he's good at. I can take Greg under my wing for now."
Jonathan blinked in surprise. He hadn't expected Alice to offer herself up like that. Part of him was relieved, but another part felt guilty for pushing his problems onto someone else, especially someone who had always been tough on him but also fair. Indira stared at Alice for a long moment, her eyes narrowing as if trying to see through her motives. Finally, she let out a sigh, leaning back in her chair.
"Fine. If you think you can manage him, be my guest. But don't come crying to me when he turns out to be more trouble than you can handle." Alice gave a curt nod. "I won't." Indira's gaze shifted back to Jonathan, her expression still hard. "But understand this, Jonathan. I'm not letting you off the hook. You'll take over Alice's duties for the rest of the day. And if there's even one mistake, one customer complaint, you'll be scrubbing floors until your knees give out. Are we clear?"
Jonathan swallowed hard, nodding quickly. "Crystal clear."
"Good," Indira said, her tone final. "Now get back to work."
As he stepped out of the office, the chaotic scene in the restaurant greeted him again. Greg was standing exactly where Jonathan had left him, the fire extinguisher now lying at his feet, forgotten. The kids were still laughing and playing in the foam, oblivious to the mess they had become part of. Jonathan took a deep breath, trying to center himself.
He could get through the rest of the day. He had to. But the frustration, the exhaustion, the constant pressure from Indira—they were all wearing him down, and he knew it was only a matter of time before something gave. Alice stepped out of the office behind him, her usual tough demeanor in place as she approached Greg. She shot Jonathan a glance that was more reassuring than she probably intended.
"Hey, Greg," she said, her voice firm but not unkind. "Why don't you help me in the back for a bit? We've got some organizing to do."Greg looked at her, his face lighting up. "Okay, sure! I like organizing."
Alice managed a small smile, though she quickly hid it behind her usual Stoic expression.
"Great. Follow me."
As Alice led Greg away, Jonathan couldn't help but watch them go, a mixture of relief and guilt swirling inside him. Alice was taking on a burden he couldn't handle, and it wasn't lost on him how much that meant - especially coming from her.