Day 17: Write a short scenario set in the kitchen of a fast-food restaurant.
There were three of them: one pizza, one pasta, and one salad cook. Their pants were black; the pizza cook was wearing a white coat, but the other two were dressed in black, short-sleeved button downs. They were speaking a language unfamiliar to me, laughing occasionally at the demise of one of the Colorfuls.
The Colorfuls all had the same bottoms, but different colored shirts, and spoke a completely different, and still unfamiliar, language from the Cooks. I tried stay away from the Colorfuls as much as possible. They were always in a hurry, scurrying around the kitchen getting and spilling drinks, and picking up and spilling food. For my life’s sake, it was best if I hung around the Cooks.
Once in a while, the Head Honcho would make an appearance. She spoke both the language that the Cooks spoke and the language that the Colorfuls spoke. She was the middleman between the two, sorting out issues and translating. She was kind of like the mother figure, cleaning up after the Colorfuls when they fumbled and checking on the Cooks progress. Very matronly, and I had a lot of respect for the Head Honcho, until . . .
“MOUSEEEEE!” she cried one night, when the restaurant was closed and empty.
“¡R-R-RATÓN!” all three of the Cooks stuttered in unison, the little one in black climbing up on the counter.
I had realized I had made my appearance too early that evening as one of the Colorfuls had no problem chasing after me with a broom. I never went back to see the Cooks, the Colorfuls, and the Head Honcho. I guess that’s the hospitality business for you . . .