February 20

Table 10A is Still There

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Berea, OH – Server Sylvia McCintosh, 22, was nearly finished with her shift when she realized table 10a was “still there, having dessert.” She informed the kitchen all the tickets were in. Due to a recent edict from the manager, however, they couldn’t break down the open kitchen until all customers had left.

This is her story

9:45pm
“Yeah they’re still there. They’re still picking at dessert. I think he wants more coffee though.”

9:48pm
“I filled his coffee, but she didn’t want any more. I think they’re winding down.”

9:52pm
“No one’s touched the pie for awhile, but she’s kinda hovering over it. Give them a few minutes.”

9:55pm
“Uh oh, bad news, he’s holding her hands as she tells a story. This might be a few more minutes.”

10:15pm
“She’s totally still talking.”

10:22pm
“They stopped taking coffee refills and they asked for the check. I think we’re almost there.”

10:30pm
“Check is just sitting there, no action yet.”

10:36pm
“I cleared the mostly eaten dessert and her coffee cup. He grabbed his cup, but didn’t want a refill.”

10:45pm
“Ok, so I think they’re having some serious discussion. I heard her ask him ‘so what are we?’ Which is not good for us.”

10:48pm
“Definitely discussing their relationship. You can go smoke if you want. This’ll take a moment.”

10:55pm
“Oh! He moved the check closer! She’s smiling again – I think we’re almost in the clear.”

11:15pm
“Duuuuuuude, just pay. Seriously. This is killing me.”

11:34pm
“They talk about their lives. To have lived is not enough for them. They have to talk about it.”

11:45pm
“They’re paying! They’re paying! GO! GO!”


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About the author

Some say Jack Hott was born in a restaurant. Others say he wasn’t born at all but discovered behind a Hobart stand mixer. Wherever he comes from, he’s made a career out of only being a good enough employee to skate by in the restaurant industry since the mid-90s. Jack Hott, if that’s even his real name, has gotten lost in walk-ins, stared into the abyss of pizza ovens, spilled red wine on white linen tablecloths, and shaken cocktails he was supposed to stir. If you can find him on social media, for your own safety, please do not follow him.

About the author

Some say Jack Hott was born in a restaurant. Others say he wasn’t born at all but discovered behind a Hobart stand mixer. Wherever he comes from, he’s made a career out of only being a good enough employee to skate by in the restaurant industry since the mid-90s. Jack Hott, if that’s even his real name, has gotten lost in walk-ins, stared into the abyss of pizza ovens, spilled red wine on white linen tablecloths, and shaken cocktails he was supposed to stir. If you can find him on social media, for your own safety, please do not follow him.

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