20Chapter 1: Application Day
"The lockers are substandard. I put a lock, but they can open easily regardless of it. I'm a junior. I've been here two years, so I know better than to leave any valuables in a locker as easily accessible as the ones found at this school. Then again, does anyone at this school even bother to equip themselves with anything that may cost—or even looks like it costs—more than ten or fifteen dollars? I would hope not. The hallways lurk with potential thieves. Which, of course, brings us to the hallway. The walls have more graffiti than paint. That's an exaggeration. But there is graffiti on that is growing at an exponential rate. At this rate, my exaggeration will no longer be an exaggeration by the time I'm ready to graduate. However, this school doesn't hold its students in very high regards, so I might have enough credits to graduate already. They sure don't seem to have much trust in their students to garner enough credits to pass legally. That, of course, brings us to the teachers-"
"I'm just going to stop you eight there," Harrison told Adrian bluntly. They were both sitting in Harrison Lane's bedroom, with Harrison trying to relax comfortably. His hair was a disheveled mess since he had been rolling on the bed in an attempt to comfort himself while his friend continued to drabble on.
That, of course, brings us to Adrian Eberts. He had the ability to be the smartest kid in the school. He had the ability to be the smartest kid in the state. However, he didn't want to be that kid who's involved in every club and had no chance at a social life. He spent his lazy afternoons researching which hair products would make his hair perfect, and trying to find the perfect pair of sunglasses to match his perfect hair. Every so often, he would glance at the club sign-up sheet, but he would never pick up the pen. He might actually have to join it.
Lazy doesn't even begin to describe Adrian and his latest endeavor. Their English assignment for Mrs. Levy was due the next day. Harrison had completed it the previous week, but Adrian had spent his time on other, personal projects. Now he had only few precious hours to write a proposal on a problem plaguing the school, and all he had was a list of complains and no way to fix them.
"That was absolutely horrible. You're going to fail this one just like the last one. And the one before that. And the one before that. That was just horrible."
"I'm cool with that," he replied as he tossed the report on the table. "I'm going home. I'll see you at school tomorrow."
The next day came. Adrian turned in his lackluster report with out even giving it a second glance. Harrison shook his head in disapproval at his friend's carelessness. He shrugged. There was nothing he could do about it. There was, surprisingly, one person missing in class as the school bell rung. Sabrina Natchios never missed class. Never.
Ten minutes passed before Mrs. Levy pointed out her absence. She had already assumed that she was in class and didn't even bother to call her name during roll call. Speak of the Devil; Sabrina came in out of breath. She was a skinny brunette of average height and a glimmer of toughness and determination in her eyes. She never seemed to let anything bother her, at least not as long as Harrison knew her, and that was since they attended elementary school together.
"You're late," Mrs. Levy pointed out.
"I know," Sabrina said apologetically. "I've been working later than usual at the restaurant this week. We just lost two servers. Vijay and Braxton moved, so we're two servers short down at the restaurant. I'm not getting home until an hour later, and by then, I'm too tired to lift a finger. My alarm clock couldn't even wake me."
"Am I to assume the unnecessary explanation is your way of telling that you did not complete the assignment?" Sabrina nodded, again apologetically. "Fair enough. Since I take pity on you in your dire situation, you can have one more day to complete the assignment, but only one day."
"Thank you, Mrs. Levy. It'll be on your desk tomorrow morning. First thing." Harrison couldn't believe what he just heard. Mrs. Levy was giving Sabrina a break just because she had an after-school job. It wasn't fair, but his first instinct wasn't to report her to the principal. It was to exploit the apparent loophole. The glimmer in Adrian's eye (at least the part of his eyes not obscured by his sunglasses) showed that he was thinking of the same thing. Mrs. Levy taught. What she taught wasn't important. It was completely being ignored until the end of class, when Harrison and Adrian dashed out and began to talk about their options.
"Extra time to work on assignments?" Adrian started off the conversation. "That's reason enough for me. Where can we get a job?"
"You're kidding, right?" Harrison shot back. "Did you not hear that the restaurant that Sabrina works at just lost two serves? They need two servers. We can be those two servers!" Adrian nodded as if he was slowly getting everything that Harrison was trying to explain to him. He began to nod his head faster and give off a knowing smirk, so that he finally understood the situation.
Sabrina Natchios could be seen passing them in the next hallway. Harrison waved to get her attention. "Hey! What's the name of the restaurant you work at?"
"The Bismark. Why?" Harrison turned back to Adrian as if he hadn't heard the follow-up question. She shrugged and continued walking.
"We apply tonight!" Adrian replied in delight.
They traversed through the school day as quickly as possible. Harrison came home and dropped off his school stuff. Harrison might have mentioned an after school job to his parents, but he doesn't remember if they ever replied to such a notion. Oh well. He was doing it anyways.
The restaurant wasn't too far from Harrison's house, only about two or three miles. Adrian rode with his friend and they stood in the parking lot and stared at the four-story building for a few seconds. The walls were a combination of wood and brick, all of which was painted a deep red. There were balconies coming off of the second and third floors with tables on them. No one was out on the balconies. Actually, all the patrons were waiting outside.
"This isn't just some fast food restaurant," Adrian noticed. "They have specific times for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. The people don't come in until the doors open and they leave when the doors close. No exception. This is some fine dining we have here."
"And who better to give them a fabulous fine dining experience than Harrison Lane and Adrian Eberts?" he replied. Adrian shrugged and followed his friend to the line that was forming at the entrance. The people groaned, but Harrison ignored them as he and Adrian simply butt in line, and pushed themselves up front. They weren't planning on waiting in line.
"Door's locked," Harrison noticed.
"Never stopped up before," Adrian honestly pointed out. The smarter of the two began to inspect the doorframe to see how well it was locked in place. The door was made of glass, and the lock was held only in place by a flimsy, old-fashioned lock. Adrian took a few more second before pulling out a pocketknife. He slid it in between the double doors and jiggled it until the door on the left swung to the outside.
Harrison wasted no time in sliding inside. Adrian slid in afterwards and closed it before the mob of angry people waiting outside could rush in.
The two friends were now alone in the dining room. The tables were laden with white tablecloths. Harrison approached one, intent on studying the layout. There were two forks on the far left. There was a napkin folded into a triangle situation in the middle on each setting. To the right was a knife facing on the inside followed by two spoons. The coffee cup was on the far right. An empty glass sat above the knife.
"There are twenty-two tables on this floor," Adrian observes and he took in the scenery. I can't tell from here, but it appears that there are significantly less tables on the second floor, counting the two we saw on the table." Harrison stepped closer to his friend to confirm that fact. The second floor was visible from the first, as was the third. The stairs leading up were completely visible from the dining room. However, the fourth floor remained hidden from view. There was an elevator at the far left, but neither of them paid it any notice.
"Someone will come out eventually," Harrison said. "We probably should figure out what we're going to say. Breaking and entering can't measure highly on their appreciation scale."
"Someone's already out here," came a calm female voice from behind them. The boys spun around to see a young black woman sitting a two-top table with her eyes focus on them like daggers. Her shirt was loud. The colors clashed with each other in an almost blinding fashion. Her hair was a bit crazy, but it seemed to work for her style. Her pants were loud in their own way, and they even managed to match the shirt, which was a miracle in itself. "You two really seem to like this place. However, dinner service does not start until 5:00, so I'd appreciate if you turned your excited butts back around and come back in about half an hour."
"We're not here to eat," Harrison explained. "We want a job."
The woman seemed to think about the offer presented to her. Finally, she replied to them. "Okay. You've got the job. You clearly seem to want it bad enough, so no application necessary. However, there is some legal thing we need to get threw. Go to the clinic on Sunrise Avenue. Tell them you're there to apply for a position at The Bismark. The nurse will tell you what to do."
"That's it?" Adrian question. "We go to the clinic and we're done?"
"Yes, unless you would like it to be more in-depth. Quite frankly, that's more paperwork for me, and I don't want to have to do it." The woman continued to stare at them with daggers.
""We'll go to the clinic," Harrison assured her. He was literally dragging Adrian out towards the door with him. "There is absolutely no need to threaten us with more work. We will go and update you with the information as soon as possible." Harrison unlocked the doors behind him and slipped back out. The mob of people outside had grown slightly larger in their absence and they were all in agreement that they weren't going to be nice.
"We're leaving," Harrison told the group. "You may now return your fury to either Tom Cruise or those guys who sang the Macarena. Either one works for me. I don't care." With that, he grabbed his friends' arm and returned the car. The left the parking lot as soon as possible, trying to avoid the possibility that a good majority of the people in line would forsake their spots in favor of torch-wielding revenge. As unlikely as the situation seemed, Harrison wasn't about to take any chances.
Back inside, Sabrina Natchios stepped out of the kitchen and joined the skinny black woman at the table. "Trina, was that Harrison Lane and Adrian Eberts that just left? What were they doing here?"
"First of all," she said as she stood up, "They do not have names. I do not bother to learn names unless I have to and if they don't get the job, which they might not because they look like stoner to me, I would have no reason to learn their names. When I get the results tomorrow and they lean in their favor, then they can be Harrison and Adrian. Until then, they're just two stoners who broke into my restaurant."
"The clinic," Adrian observes as they pulled into the parking lot. "It's nothing to gawk at like the restaurant, but we can take solace in the fact that there is not innumerable line to push threw."
"You know if you wrote as professionally as you spoke, you might be able to pass a class or two?"
"Too much work."
They entered the clinic together. The only person in sight was a plump nurse at the front desk with rosy cheeks. She seemed to be a nice person, so Harrison didn't hesitate to walk over to her and explain the situation. "Hi. My friend and I are applying for a job at The Bismark and the boss lady told us to come here."
Without looking up, the lady lowered her right arm and began to rummage threw the desk, The pulled it back up and tossed two empty vials into the air, one towards Harrison and the other towards Adrian. "Take them. Pee in them. Return them to me. Then you go home."
"Pee in a cup? What is this? Like a drug test?"
"Yes," she replied, still not looking up. "It's a state law that all employees must take a drug test before being admitted to the job." Harrison looked over to where Adrian was standing, except he was no longer standing there. Harrison spun his head in the other direction to see Adrian stepping out of the bathroom with a full vial in his left hand. He placed in on the desk, and the nurse took it and grabbed a pen. "Name?"
"Adrian Eberts."
"Date of birth?"
"March 23, 1990."
"Social Security number?"
"You're kidding, right?"
"I am. You have no idea how many people actually give that up without thinking. Okay, Mr. Eberts. You are done. This will be tested and the results will be available to your employer by tomorrow."
"Great. I'll be in the car." Adrian bid the two people in the clinic good-bye. Harrison gave the nurse a quick smile before sliding into the bathroom. "Pee in the cup. Pee in the cup. Pee in the cup." He kept telling himself the same thing over and over again, but it wasn't helping. He just didn't have the urge and he could force himself.
Harrison exited the bathroom and returned to the nurse. "Can I have a drink of water?" She pointed to the water cooler. Harrison grabbed a plastic cup and filled it. The water tasted terrible, but was the only thing he could do for the situation.
Dinner was beginning at The Bismark. Once again, they were in need of Vijay and Braxton, but they were out of luck. The cousins lived together, so it made sense that they would move away together. They were they best servers they had, too. Now, everyone was scrambling because they had to take more tables than they could manage.
Sabrina Natchios was fortuitous enough to have the left side of the third floor to serve that day. The third floor was the least favorite place to dine. It was a good view of the beach from the balcony, but the inside tables weren't worth to long trek up the stairs. The tables were exactly the same on the previous two floors. Sabrina was catching her breath in the kitchen before heading out into the dining room.
There were only two other people in the kitchen with her. The head chef Joe was standing behind the window. It was more of a shelf, really, but the window was were the chefs would put the meals on to keep them hot until they were picked up and ready to take out. He had his good old-fashioned gruff expression of disinterest that he's had forever.
The other person was Michael Sexton. He was a server like Sabrina, but he had been one for around a year now. At nineteen years old, he was attending community college at the beginning of his tenure at work, but it would appear that he no longer attends as he works a split schedule, which means he comes in for breakfast, goes home, and returns later to serve dinner. Michael was blond and had a smile plastered on his face as if he was proud of himself. His hair was always unkempt, so no one really knew why he was always so happy.
"You have a table," Chef Joe told her from behind the window. He was right. The Bismark had a slew of regular customers and there was one girl who sat on the third floor balcony every day. Sabrina walked by the window and climbed the stair in the kitchen all the way up to the third floor She exited the double doors to see a young girl sitting out on the balcony uncaringly glancing at the menu. She already knew what was on it.
"Good afternoon Monique," Sabrina began as cordially as she possibly could. What can I get you today."
"Oh you," Monique replied as she looked up to see her server. The girl had a heavy French accent, coupled with a disappointed tone in her voice. "I was hoping that Vijay or Braxton would be serving here."
"They don't work here anymore."
"That doesn't make me wish for them any less. They knew how to serve. Ever since they left, this place has been going downhill. Either you need to get new servers, or you need to get Vijay and Braxton back. Oh, and just get me an iced tea for right now." Sabrina jotted down her order and spun around. She almost had a heart attack when she saw Michael was standing no more than a few inches behind her.
"I heard that two classmates of your applied for this job. I think our troubles will be over soon enough."
"Please. You don't know Harrison and Adrian like I do. They wouldn't make this place any better. It would go down hill even faster than it already is."
"I don't think we have anything to lose at this point. Trina agrees. Hell, even Chef Joe agrees. I say we give them a chance."
"Assuming they pass the drug test."
The question wasn't whether or not they were going to pass the drug test. The question was whether or not Harrison would be able to even give his sample before the nurse's shift ended. It was already closing in on 6:00 and the nurse informed him that she got off of work at 6:30.
Things were looking good for Harrison. He had already chugged the entire water cooler and he was downing his second one to no avail. It seemed like the water wasn't even working. Adrian would come in every no and them to see how things were going, but he never stayed. He'd rather play with the radio than support his friend in his urine-related situation.
Harrison poured himself another drink of water. The nurse stood up and pushed his hand away from the machine. "I think you've had enough water for one day. Actually, I think you've had enough water for a week."
"You don't tell me when I've had enough!" Harrison shot back. He wasn't even entirely lucid anymore. "I'll tell you when I've had enough. Give me another shot!"
"Are you drunk?" she asked. "Did you just get drunk from water?"
"I am not drunk. I have a high tolerance level. You can ask anybody, preferably someone who doesn't know me, and you actually show him or her a picture of someone else and say that the guy in the picture is me. That might work a little better."
"I think you should go home. Come back when you have more urine in your system."
Harrison was about to come back with yet another witty response, but he shot upright and ran to the bathroom. The urge had finally come. "Vial, boy! Vial!" the nurse reminded him. Good thing, too. He complete forgot about it.
"Name?" she asked as he handed her a vial that was only one-fourth full.
"Harrison Lane."
"Date of birth?"
"October 4, 1990."
"Social Security number?"
"Seven-five-three-"
"Please stop," she demanded. "You've embarrassed yourself enough for one day. You can go home now, Mr. Lane. I will make sure this vial gets tested first. Please leave and try your best never to come back." Harrison smiled at her again before finally joining his friend in the car.
"Finally! Can we go?"
"Yeah," she said as he started the car. He put his hand in the gearshift, but hesitated. "Wait a minute. I have to use the bathroom. Harrison bolted out of his seat and ran back to the clinic. Adrian simply slinked back into the passenger seat.
The daily dinner rush seemed especially hard on this fruitful day. Even on the third floor, the combined powers of Michael Sexton and Sabrina Natchios weren't getting the meals out in time. Complaints were flying left and right.
"Waiter! I need some coffee!"
You're awake enough already!
"Where's my food already?"
The kitchen! Where do you think it is?
"Can you get me a pillow, please?"
Sure. Would you like me to replace the tires on your cars for some Firestone while I'm at it?
"I need some more water."
If you didn't yell so much, maybe you would still have some.
"I need my dessert. I have places to go!"
And of course your Boston Crème Pie is much more important than your business meeting. Oh, wait. You meant football, didn't you?
Finally, Sabrina had enough. "Okay! Harrison and Adrian can work here!"
"Good," Trina said as she climbed the stairs to the third floor. "I just got a call from the clinic. The test results are back and the boys will be starting tomorrow."
A/N: I'm not entirely sure when I'm going with this story. Much of this is based on my own experiences as a server. Something similar to this happened to me when I applied for the job. I had to take a drug test, and I went with another lady to pee in the cup. She went in and out and left in five minutes. I was there for another two hours.
Just so you know, I consider this more of a TV series rather than story, so I'll be referring to them as "episodes" rather than "chapters". On the same notion, here's a preview for the next episode:
Harrison and Adrian begin their training to be the perfect servers. Adrian trains under Shawn Russoti and Harrison trains under Michael Sexton. Meanwhile, Trina and Chef Joe discuss the previous owner's death, and whether or not either of them were in his will.