So anyway, I was still working there last weekend. Now, the weekend kitchen-bus boy dude is very creepy. Every time I walk in his face lights up – not in an “I’m happy to see you” kinda way, but in a “I’m raping you with my eyes” kinda way. It’s very unsettling. I try to stay on my side of the kitchen door, but when he comes out, I make sure to send him on some kind of errand far, far away from me. But this past Sunday I wasn’t thinking on my feet. He snuck up behind me and said “¿Cansada bonita?” Startled, I took a few steps to the side, but I was basically trapped behind the breakfast counter. “Ha ha…sí, estoy cansada.” So apparently “yes, I’m tired” translates to “please give me a massage” because that’s what he started to do. He started rubbing his creepy little hands on my shoulders. Thank the lord, a customer came in so I scampered away. This never would have happened had quitting worked like I thought I was supposed to.
So I was also STILL working this morning. And I was hit by the swinging kitchen door FOUR TIMES! Back! Head! Arm! Other arm! Then 10:30 AM finally rolled around and I could finally start closing up. When a couple walked in...
Me: Oh, I’m sorry, we’re closed.
Couple: You make us bagel?
Me: No, I’m sorry, we’re closed.
Me: *Sigh…I make you bagel.
After making the bagel…and a hot chocolate…and a coffee, I finally got to go home.
Working at this restaurant job has made me question how people understand the words that are coming out of my mouth. I think I’m speaking English but…I guess people are hearing different things.