Grubby Helper John, the koala, and KCB Gary walked into the new restaurant that had just opened on High Street. They got inside the doorway, and looked about the restaurant. The restaurant looked at them in return. A middle-aged balding man wearing glasses and an Iron Man shirt, a leather strip skirt and carrying a spear. A koala, on two legs, wearing black robes and a black hood pulled over his head. A cold man wearing a chefs coat (this caught the restaurants interest more than the other two. Chefs get respect and fear in such places), crocs, blousy comfortable pants and a ballcap atop his shaved head. “Hi, how many?” asked the Hostess as she appeared. “Three, thank you.” said John. The hostess looked down and now noticed the koala. “Oh, do you need a kids booster seat?” The koala frowned slightly at this. “No, he’s fine.” said John. “If you’ll follow me?” stated the Hostess as she turned and strode off into the depths of the restaurant. As they strolled to their seats, KCB Gary noted the exits, reflective surfaces, choke-points, anyone acting belligerent, anyone overly nervous, and any familiar faces (to which he would wave, smile, or give a friendly remark). The koala strode along, feeling the emotions of the patrons with his Sith senses. He took note of contentment, anger, sorrow, love, serenity and most importantly rage. John was pausing slightly to look at food people were eating. The three climbed into or sat down at their seats when they arrived to where the Hostess wanted them. Gary sat where he had the best view. John sat where he could peek into the kitchen. The koala sat where he wouldn’t be bothered. “Hi! I’m Max, I’ll be your server. “ said the nice young man as he handed out menus. “Nice spear, dude!” “Thanks. I just finished balancing it.” said Gary with a smile. “Can I get you anything to drink while you check over the menus?” “Coffee.” replied John. “He’ll have water, no ice...” Said Gary nodding to the koala, “And I’ll have a cola, no ice.” With a flashing of happy teeth Max left to get libations. John and Gary perused the menus. The koala ignored his, and closed his eyes and went still. John mad small comments about the items on the menu, while Gary simply hunted for something that would fit his diet. Max appeared with the drinks. He quietly placed them on the table, and then stood at the ready. John looked up and asked him several questions about the dishes. Max had to retreat to the kitchen to get answers. When he came back and gave John the results, this simply inspired John to ask another round of questions that Max couldn’t answer again. Another trip to the kitchen came about, with Max returning with answers. John contemplated the answers, then asked a third series of questions. Max strode off to the kitchen yet again, this time returning with one of the cooks. John and the cook struck up a highly punctuated conversation, filled with cooking jargon, some small jokes, some appraisals of technique, and finally enough information to satisfy John. He made his selection, a rather high-end and unusual choice that hadn’t been ordered much as of yet, based on the cooks recommendations. Gary ordered a sandwich. “… and he’ll have a bowl of chili.” said Gary as he nodded towards the koala. “I’m sorry,” stated Max. “But we don’t have chili.” The koala opened his eyes at this, and turned his head to stare at Max. Gary sat back in his chair and looked exasperated. This happened far too often. The koalas dietary choice of chili was inflexible. Extremely. “John…?” Gary asked John, a semi-pleading tone in his voice. “We aren’t leaving. I want to try this dish.” The koala turned to look at John. John ignored him. Gary just rolled his eyes and looked tired. “Here.” said John as he reached into his chefs jacket. There was a disturbing amount of metallic clinking sounds, and John withdrew a can of chili. “Throw this in a bowl, nuke it, and bring it. And a spoon. A wooden one, if it can be spared. If not, then no big deal. Nothing else.” He said in a tone that allowed no discussion. The koala turned his head forward and closed his eyes again. Max, doing a wonderful job of handling difficult customers with a smile, headed off to place the orders. He hoped the tip was going to be worth it.
Posted on: Wed, 19 Nov 2014 17:55:51 +0000
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