By all standards, as Rosie told it, Bill’s second day in the Falstaff Room was exceptionally busy. They started shortly after 5:00 and worked pretty much straight through until shortly before 9:00. There were brief lulls every now and then during which times both Jimmy G and Bill ran to the men’s room. On his run Bill found himself walking briskly with Rosie.
“Ooh, I have to pee,” she said.
“Me too,” Bill said.
“Wanna go together?” Rosie asked.
“Maybe when I’m off probation,” Bill said. “That’s another 88 days.”
“I can wait,” Rosie said. “I’ll just have to play with myself between now and then.”
“I’m not waiting for you,” Bill said. “I’m peeing and heading back.”
“Spoil sport,” Rosie said.
But she hurried and was waiting for him when he came out of the men’s room. She was standing there adjusting herself in her uniform. Bill watched her, watched her pull here, shimmy a bit, pull there, make sure her breasts were covered but her cleavage was distinctly visible.
Between 9:00 and 10:00 they had more tables. Jimmy G worked less and Bill worked more, but that was okay because Bill, when they weren’t very busy, didn’t need Jimmy. The only thing he was still a bit lacking in was the correct garnish for each plate. But he was getting it down, and the girls, all of them, did not mind telling him if he missed something or had the wrong garnish on a plate. They were all happy because no plates came back, all steaks were cooked properly and the customers seemed eminently satisfied.
Several times Kalista brought them in espressos. Jimmy put Bill’s down on the counter by the prime rib and Bill drank it off quickly almost in one gulp. When he was thirsty, he asked one of the girls to get him a cold drink, diet soda. They were all happy to keep him happy because it was clear that he was not only capable but actually quite good at what he did.
Only Caesar was unhappy. He wasn’t unhappy at how busy they were and he wasn’t unhappy at how smoothly the kitchen ran. He wasn’t unhappy that all the plates Bill put out were not only correctly prepared, but were aesthetically appealing as well. Or, as the girls started saying, he put out, Bill did, gorgeous plates, clean, crisp, steaks diamond-marked and prime rib straight and even, the tail appropriately trimmed.
Caesar was unhappy because if this night were any indication, he was going to be stuck with Bill, or, as he thought about it, Bill was going to survive his probation and go on to be the regular Falstaff Room cook. This meant his role would be somewhat diminished, especially since the chef did not seem to be backing him up.
Bill was used to handling much greater volume. When it was all said and done, even when doing it all mostly himself, this was a piece of cake. He was fast, agile and accurate and he had a good head for the orders and the sense of how things went in kitchens.
Jimmy Banquet Chef came by toward the end of their run. He came to see how things were going, stopped first to talk with his aunt, Kalista, who told him that Jimmy G said Bill was super. Then he stopped at the entry to the Falstaff Room kitchen where he stood for a few moments watching Bill and Jimmy work.
If anything, Jimmy Banquet Chef saw Bill work around his cousin Jimmy G, saw that Bill was much more fluid and could accomplish two or three things to Jimmy’s one. Not only could he do that, but he could read what Jimmy was not going to get to and get to it ahead of him, always telling Jimmy G that he had it. This allowed them to keep the flow and not fall behind.
And so it went. Day 2.
