Shit. Maybe I should just wear sneakers like Ken.
Better yet, maybe I should have left my apartment sooner.
I fully intended to. I got out of bed before my alarm went off. I had just toast and an apple for breakfast. I put on the clothes that I’d prepared the night before as quickly as I could.
The problem was that I spilled the last bit of my coffee as I was on my way to deposit the mug in the sink. Why do I have to be such a klutz sometimes? I had to change clothes, which took time. Then when I went out the door, I stepped on cat poop. Just my luck. I had to scrub the soles of my shoes in the bathroom so my apartment wouldn’t stink, then change into new ones. By the time I got into my car, I realized I could be running late. I thought I still had a chance of getting to work on time on my first day, though… right up until I got stuck in traffic because of some stupid driver who somehow crashed his car into the front of a barber shop.
It’s just one of those days when the universe seems to be conspiring against me. And it’s only 8:20.
“You’re late,” Ken tells me as soon as I set foot in the yard.
She’s standing on the front steps with her hands on her hips. The heel of her sneaker taps the wood impatiently.
“I know.”
I stop in front of her and place my hands on my knees as I catch my breath.
“I’m so sorry.”
“Sorry? You think customers will forgive a waiter for serving them the wrong dish if he just says sorry? You think a cook should be let off the hook for sending out raw meat if he says sorry? You think a supplier should be forgiven for giving us poor quality vegetables so long as he says sorry?”
I meet her gaze. Something tells me this is the real Ken – the one who means business, who demands nothing less than perfection. No wonder the other intern didn’t last long. I have to say I myself am a little scared. Even so, I can’t bring myself to dislike her. She’s not wrong.
“I’ll do whatever I need to to make up for it,” I tell her with as much earnestness as I can muster.
Now that I’ve signed up for this internship, I have to show her I’m just as serious as she is.
Ken nods as she crosses her arms over her chest. “Good. You’ll do that today. Tomorrow, come on time, though. Punctuality is of the utmost importance when you’re running a restaurant. No one likes to be kept waiting, hungry people least of all.”
“I understand. I won’t be late again.”
For a moment, she stays silent, her narrowed eyes studying mine as if she can see my soul through them or gauge the worth of my words. Finally, the tension on her face eases.
“Good.” The corners of her mouth turn up slightly. “Now, let’s get to work.”
~
Just as I thought, working under Ken isn’t easy. She never runs out of things for me to do, and if I lose focus for just a second, she’s on me like a vulture on a carcass, pecking until I come back to life.
As I take my second break on the balcony, I kick off my shoes and stretch my arms. The breeze feels wonderful against my cheeks.
Note to self – tomorrow, wear something comfortable. And maybe bring another set of clothes. And a towel so I can wipe off all this sweat. And a pain reliever in case I get a headache. And a basin of water I can soak my feet in to relieve some of my stress. Okay, maybe not that last one, but all those other things.
I let out a deep breath. An internship is even harder than I thought.
Is a real job just as hard? No wonder some people get burned out or look like corpses by the time they retire. And yet, no one really has a choice. If you don’t work, you don’t get money, which you need to pay bills, to survive. But if you do work, you get tired all the time, too tired to have any fun. It seems like in order to survive, you have to give up living. Cruel, but nothing can be done about it.
I shake my head. Why am I entertaining such depressing notions when I’ve only just started working? Surely I don’t want to hide in my room forever, to rely on Mom forever?
It’s high time I live my own life.
The sound of laughter from below scatters my thoughts. I peer over the railing and see Maisie laughing and running in circles as Jackson chases her.
I smile. Children have it easy, alright.