SpurYourImagina
12-04-2008, 03:30 PM
Mr. Humphrey walked in from the storm. Hands dripping, t-shirt and shoes soaked. He wiped the water from his face. He had just hoped his resume wouldn’t be soaked as he slinked his backpack from his shoulder. The short, attractive looking hostess stared at amazement as Mr. Humphrey quickly produced a resume from his backpack. With glee he held it up and said, “I’m here to apply for the waiter position.”
Behind the kitchen a spatula fell from a tool rack. Marissa rubbed her head as she stared at the numbers for the last few months’ business. The cooks were under paid and never reliable, you hired one and fired the next every month. The waiting staff seemed particularly grumpy recently. The customers just weren’t tipping. She earnestly hoped for a new spark of life to come to the restaurant. Just then, he walked in.
A short stocky sandy-haired man walked in with Baretta the new hostess.
“Marissa, this is Mike Humphrey,” she declared with a smile. They eyed each other. Mike extended his hand with a smile, “Hello, nice to meet you.” He didn’t look like much, but the guy expressed heart. It had looked like he had just finished crawling out from behind a dumpster. He was very quick to learn and very charming. “You can start as soon as you like. We actually need an extra person to fill in for Steven tonight.” “I would,” Mr. Humphrey expressed with eagerness, “But what is the dress code? Do I need some black khakis?”
“Yes, black khakis, and a clean t-shirt, and dress shirt.” Never had she before ever in her life ask someone with so little for so much. It almost didn’t seem right. After a few applications were filled out, Mr. Humphrey walked out of the restaurant with the promise of a new life. He didn’t know how he was going to get the black khakis and dress shirt. He was just wondering how they would react to him when he came back with the same clothes on.
Behind the kitchen a spatula fell from a tool rack. Marissa rubbed her head as she stared at the numbers for the last few months’ business. The cooks were under paid and never reliable, you hired one and fired the next every month. The waiting staff seemed particularly grumpy recently. The customers just weren’t tipping. She earnestly hoped for a new spark of life to come to the restaurant. Just then, he walked in.
A short stocky sandy-haired man walked in with Baretta the new hostess.
“Marissa, this is Mike Humphrey,” she declared with a smile. They eyed each other. Mike extended his hand with a smile, “Hello, nice to meet you.” He didn’t look like much, but the guy expressed heart. It had looked like he had just finished crawling out from behind a dumpster. He was very quick to learn and very charming. “You can start as soon as you like. We actually need an extra person to fill in for Steven tonight.” “I would,” Mr. Humphrey expressed with eagerness, “But what is the dress code? Do I need some black khakis?”
“Yes, black khakis, and a clean t-shirt, and dress shirt.” Never had she before ever in her life ask someone with so little for so much. It almost didn’t seem right. After a few applications were filled out, Mr. Humphrey walked out of the restaurant with the promise of a new life. He didn’t know how he was going to get the black khakis and dress shirt. He was just wondering how they would react to him when he came back with the same clothes on.