If this gentleman would just move then it would at least diffuse my boss’s increasing anxiety at his loss of profit but Mr Rush simply will not go. My own patience is beginning to match the manager’s although I cannot do a thing about it. The apparent annoyance of my manager shows that I should at least know something of the delicate nature of this operation.
Beads of sweat line Mr Rush’s brow as he sits head in hands staring down, gloomily drunk, into his fifth vodka and lime. My manager ushers customers into the foyer and I think how on earth can I get this guy to go.
I wish I was anywhere than here. I’m waiting when I am supposed to be doing exactly that. I serve others champagne and oysters and our special valentine main course and all the time I approach Mr. Rush he nods at the empty glass and I refill to the wariness of Josh behind the bar. Angry Dan had words with Josh earlier and I realise with growing frustration that I could be out of a job thanks to this embarrassing situation.
I wonder how the evening would have turned out if the date had shown. Would they have laughed, shared jokes, locking eyes and cuddling up close? Or would they have just sat on the love seat; the most popular place for restaurant romantics and stared frostily, fixating on anything but each other, wishing the waiting of the food to be that much quicker than it would have inevitable been.
The guys in the kitchen are taking bets about what happens next. I’d join in but I can see tips are going to be pretty sparse tonight. Bubba the chef reckons Mr Rush is gay but then he’s old school and still tells ancient jokes about women and kitchens. Many times I’ve wanted to say that if he had his way then he’d also be out of a job but I’m weak. This is also why I cannot dismiss the lonely customer and the dishwashers have laid a fiver each on Mr Rush getting too drunk to even walk out of Expectations.
The manager is usually non-belligerent but judging by his continuously raised eyebrows I’m clearly not doing my job. Now is the time I have to be assertive without causing a scene. I’ve not envied this moment for the last three quarters of an hour but as it draws nearer I’m just as impatient for it to be over as much as the boss.
I approach the table and Mr Rush tips the empty glass in appreciation. I’m thrown off for a slight second but then I motion to the waiting guests whose eyes are like my mother’s in Sainsbury’s car park, scanning for the next available place and I speak,
‘Excuse me sir, I’m sorry to say but this is a restaurant and I appreciate that you have pre booked this table but we have other…’
Suddenly he stands and offers his right hand. With his other he pulls out what looks like a Dictaphone from his jacket pocket. I’m in a daze as he tells me he’s from The Standard and is mightily impressed with my patience and understanding. Angry Dan makes a beeline guessing trouble only to be corrected by this amazingly sober reporter praising me and assuring us his review of Expectations will be excellent.
