Reputation: Book One

Qrow

9 To 5- Dolly Parton

Night Shift- John Pardi

I Like It, I love it- Tim McGraw

I honestly hated my job. Even though I only went twice a week, it totally sucked. Especially because you are completely clueless about who is going to be your next customer.

"Waiter!" A female voice called from beside me as I quickly walked past. I stopped short, turning around. I placed my platter I was carrying onto the empty table beside them.

"Yes?"

It was a red-headed woman, small and thin with two children, one on each side of her. The one on her left was vigorously slurping her noodles out of her bowl while the one on the right fought the sauce from her meal off her face with her sleeves. My eye twitched in disgust and I forced a smile.

"Would you like a napkin?" I ask with a laugh, reaching into my black front pouch tied around my waist and pulling out a thin cloth.

"Oh yes, thank you." She smiles, handing it to her daughter on her right. "You must have children yourself," she says as she wipes off her child's face. I chuckle. "I do, in fact. Two daughters as well," I smile.

"What are their names?" The woman asks curiously. "Cortaney and Jhordyn," I respond.

"I really like the name Jhordyn," she says, turning to her daughter on her left. "We almost named her that but we picked Jessica instead."

The sound of glass shattering rung out through the room, interrupting our conversation and silencing everyone for a second or two. I wince, pressing my lips against my gums."Sounds like you have to go," The woman giggles. "Never a dull moment, I'll tell you that," I laugh as I hurry off towards the sound of indistinct voices.

After the glass was cleaned up, I served the table who had been patiently waiting before walking back into the kitchen.

I saw six platters waiting on the counter, the food steaming. I groaned, picking two up and placing them on each shoulder.

"Qrow!" My manager, Mr. Jackson booms just as I started back for the door. I jump, startled. " Yes, sir?"

"Get out there and make sure everyone has ordered and or has food," He commands, pointing a long, bony finger at me. "And take your hair out of that pony-o! You look ridiculous!" He adds over his shoulder. I narrow my eyes at his turned back. I hate that old man with every cell in my body, and so does everybody else at this place. He's just so... hunched and wrinkly and grumpy all the time. It's like he only works as a manager so he can yell at people besides his wife.

"And thake your hair out of that thupid ponytail," I quietly mock in a lisped cartoon voice, raising my lip and making a face. Yeah, I work for him, but he does not tell me what styles I can and can't do with the hair on my head. I exhale slowly, marching back out of the kitchen and to the front desk.

One of my co-workers, Zieka, gave me a wild look and burst into laughter. I turned away, smiling to myself as I feel my cheeks heat up. Wandering to the front desk, I see a long, intimidating line stretching from the counter to the door. "Do I need to take someone?" I ask Alicia, and she huffs impatiently. She shakes her head, her ponytail flipping back and forth. "Not now, no. I will let you know when another person comes in."

I nod, taking an empty platter and wandering off to go survey the customers.

As I walked past a table, I saw a man drop his fork through my peripheral vision. I ignored it, figuring he'd pick it up himself.

"Waiter," He calls, his voice quite familiar. I turn around, grimacing. He better not tell me off...
I raise my eyebrows, put on a big smile and energetically turn around. "Yes, si-"

I stopped mid-sentence, my mouth still wrapped around the shape of my words.

"Tripp?"

He looked just as surprised to see me, but when our eyes locked, he set his expression and looked back down at the menu and continued to slowly stir his ice water with his straw. "Fetch me a new fork please," He says, ignoring my outburst. I eye him warily.

"I don't think you need a fork to drink," I mumble, warily eyeing his full glass of water. He looks down at his cup, eyebrow arched.

"Riiiiight," He says in a short breath, taking his spoon from his napkin, dangling it over the edge of his table and dropping it. His sparkling green eyes turn back to mine and his lips pull into smile. "Waiter, will you fetch me a new spoon please?"

I huff impatiently, rolling my eyes. "Tripp, I have things to do besides give you a new spoon you dropped on purpose," I say in annoyance, setting my platter against my hip. "Besides, you don't even need a spoon or a fork if you just ordered water."

"How am I going to get the ice out?" He sneers.

I set my platter on the table infront of me, rubbing both of my temples with two fingers. "Tripp, I really have to work-"

"Well, then I guess I don't need to waste my time here trying to ask you to the Red Star game." He punctuated his sentence with a shrug.

I puckered my lips. He knew how much I favoured that team. I totally deserved that. I straightened upright, setting my mouth in a straight line.
"Thank you, but I'm not interested in any of your games," I sneer. I catch a muscle in his eyebrow twitch as I turn on my heel, walking away with chin held high as I placed my platter back onto my shoulder.

I was glad I could finally get away before he made fun of me for my outfit. I definitely did not want him to see me like this. I was wearing tight slacks and a v-neck, a black velvet choker, guy-liner, an apron and a ponytail. What a freak.

I reached up and yanked my hairband out, my thick black curls tumbling into my eyes. I forgot I had to use water to slick my hair back. I toss my head back and groaned, stole one last glance over my shoulder to meet Tripp's eyes again, but I'd looked too soon. There he was, smiling back at me with that smug smirk. I tore away, feeling my cheeks warm. God, I want to quit now. I can't believe myself. How embarrassing.