Image: Pixabay
‘What are you doing?’ Gordon glared through the kitchen hatch, pupils shrunk to the size of pinheads under the bright strip lighting.
With his paunch, a slick of greasy black hair over his bald scalp and a face permanently scrunched by ill-temper, he wasn’t a good looking man. Dorothy tried not to judge books by covers, but she knew Gordon’s ‘contents’ and it matched his cover exactly.
She rolled up onto the balls of her feet then back down to her heels. ‘Exercises. Doctor says I’ve got to do them twice a day.’
Leaning through the hatch, his surprisingly delicate hands resting on the frame, Gordon resembled a curious guinea pig peering from its cage. Dorothy suppressed a smile at the thought.
‘Do ‘em on your own time,’ he said. ‘Serve table three. He’s waiting.’
Heels clicking the floor tiles, Dorothy looked around the near empty café. Of the twelve tables, eleven were empty, their cutlery, condiments and serviette holders all filled and neatly arranged. Only table three was occupied and that by a lone man wearing a quaintly old fashioned trilby and grey pin stripe suit, a cerise carnation springing from his lapel.
‘He’s still reading the menu,’ said Dorothy.
Gordon scowled, lips parting to show rodential yellow incisors. ‘Stop being so bone-bloody-idle and serve.’
How long had she worked in this dump? Fourteen years? Fifteen? And nothing in return but varicose veins that resembled the Nile Delta and plantar fasciitis crucifying her feet. Nothing to go home to but a rented flat above a newsagent and a stray cat she called Nobody that might deign to visit, but only if the old lady next door hadn’t been to the fishmonger that day.
The order pad was in Dorothy’s hand and she was halfway to table three before she had time to tell Gordon what he could do with his spatula.
‘Are you ready to place your order?’
Written for My Loving Wife’s #tuesdayuseitinasentence, brought to you today by the word SERVE.
Feels like an opening, doesn’t it? Where do you think the story should go next? Answers on a postcard (or in the comments box) please.
Word Shamble 
Very vivid description of an incredibly awful boss. Wow, puts my life woes in perspective! And yes,I can imagine some of the things she might tell him to do with that spatula, but none of them are suitable for a family friendly show. 😉
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Haha! Yes, poor Dorothy. We’ve all had nightmare bosses, haven’t we, though few as unpleasant or as unseemly as Gordon. I’m sure one day she’ll rebel and he’ll finally feel the wrath of that spatula. 🙂 Thanks for reading, Joy
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You suggested that you have a small stock of characters which you recycle regularly – but Im sure I’d remember someone like Gordon.
I hope your friend has an unknown aunt who happens to own the building that houses Gordon’s cafe, and who has left it to her niece, AND that she dies tommorrow (at the age of 108, dying as she lived, and as she wished – maybe ski-ing, or free-running) 🙂
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It would be interesting to see the lok on Gordon’s face as he’s evicted. Grubby little man. Thanks for reading, Jane, and maybe you’re right – perhaps I have 3 characters in my armoury after all 🙂
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You have more than that, and now I know your sad little secret – you can only count up to three. It’s alright – I won’t tell a soul 🙂
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Haha! If I count up to three often enough, maybe I’ll progress to bigger numbers one day 🙂
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Keep working on it 🙂
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I’ll use my fingers from now on. Maybe that will help 🙂
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All this work, just so you can count how many characters you possess in your stockpile… 🙂
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Yeah. Maybe I’ll forget it. Seems a bit too tricky for the likes of I 🙂
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Haha! You described him to perfection! “Gordon resembled a curious guinea pig peering from its cage” was a sublime image! He really is a despicable man and I never watch him on TV. So rude, so arrogant… uh!
I love Dorothy’s feistiness. She’s well able for him!
Love this so much Lynn!
Funny… my interpretation of the prompt would’ve almost certainly taken a kinkier route, but hey, that’s no surprise is it?
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Hahaha! Hadn’t even thought of that Gordon! Or had I? Maybe he was lurking in the back of my brain when it searched for a name. Funny 🙂 Thank you, lovely for your kind words.
Serve? Kinky? Can’t imagine WHAT you mean 😉
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Get out! I thought it was him straight away! It must’ve been subliminally in your head!
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Must have been. Horrible thought, Gordon Ramsay in my head 😦
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Oh, yes! I would love to see a continuation. Could this ‘Gordon’ be inspired Gordon Ramsay, world-renowned chef with a horrible attitude, perhaps? I’m feeling a budding romance that they’re both in denial about. Or maybe that lone patron will offer something that changes Dorothy’s life!
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Hahaha! You’re the second reader to see THAT Gordon here – it never crossed my mind. Not consciously anyway, though my sunconscious must have been working very hard at the time! Yes, I imagined the customer having some wonderful gift to give Dorothy, something that will have her shimmying off the shackles of waitressing and trotting away to a new life. Thanks for reading, Nortina 🙂
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