Barbara looked at Marissa suspiciously, “Now why would he do that?”
Offended, Marissa turned to her mother. “Well, why not? I’m a nice person right?”
“Well, that Chip doesn’t even know you,” said Barbara.
“Maybe I give off a good first impression,” shrugged Marissa.
“Maybe Chip likes you,” suggested Pamela.
Marissa crinkled her nose, “No, I don’t think so.”
“Why not?” asked Pamela.
“I’ll tell you later,” Marissa mouthed to Pamela.
“What?” questioned Barbara.
“Nothing,” Marissa insisted.
“I’m your mother. You should be able to say things in front of me,” Barbara persisted.
“So?” said Pamela jumping up and down.
“It’s just that…” Marissa hesitated. “I think he’s gay.”
“That’s kind of a harsh judgment,” said Barbara. “You’ve barely met the man.”
“Yeah, but I’m pretty sure,” said Marissa nodding her head as she thought about his demeanor at the restaurant.
“Bummer!” said Pamela. “Why are all the cute guys…”
“Gay,” Marissa finished.
“Or taken,” said Pamela.
“Listen to you girls,” interrupted Barbara. “There are more important things in life besides boys. Well one thing’s for certain. At least Chip will be one less boy checking out my daughter.” she said gesturing toward Marissa.
“Boys do not check me out!” Marissa exclaimed defensively.
“Yes they do!” said Barbara and Pamela in unison.
“Oh, I almost forgot,” said Pamela. “You got this in the mail.”
Marissa took the business size envelope from her sister. It read: University of California San Diego, Office of Admissions. Her hands shook as she opened it.
Dear Miss Belknapp,
Thank you for your interest in our school. We regret to inform you…
She stopped. Her body went limp.
“Oh Marissa, I’m so sorry,” said Pamela sympathetically.
“There’s always State!” said Barbara optimistically.
“Ahhhh!” screamed Marissa and ran to her room.
Chapter Fourteen
Marissa arrived at the steakhouse at 4:20 in the afternoon. Feeling a little self-conscious about the uniform, she wanted to change at the restaurant. She slipped into the bathroom and pulled on the gown. She stared at herself in the mirror. She caressed the purple velvet, ran her forefinger down the gold trim, and then twirled around like a little girl playing dress up. One of the reasons she adored acting was dressing up in costumes. But while she was acting, she was playing a role. She was actually supposed to be someone else. Now she was dressed up but she was supposed to be herself. Then again maybe she wasn’t. The person who was going out there, learning to be a waitress, sucking up to people to get money, was that who she really was? Or was it a role? She wasn’t sure anymore. It certainly was a part of who she was.
She decided that if she was playing a role, she might as well play it fully. She opened her bag and took out her make-up kit. She applied mascara, lipstick and some blush. Then she tied her hair up in a bun. Two curls fell out, contouring her face. Perfect.
She stood out in the foyer waiting for Chip to arrive.
Robert spotted Marissa alone in the front hall and almost smiled. Remembering his usual mood he mumbled, “Come here girl and get these manuals. You will have to memorize the whole menu, everything on the drink list, all of the wines and which wines complement which entrées.”
When Marissa saw the stack of papers Robert was handing her, she nearly fainted. She didn’t realize she would have to study at the restaurant too.
“Oh and one more thing.” Robert bent down behind the hostess stand with a grunt and brought out another booklet that he handed to Marissa. “Here’s a manual on the computer system. It has step-by-step instructions. Everything works on a computer system here. Go over to that one and practice until Chip gets here. Damn boy, can never be on time,” he muttered.
Left with the daunting task of figuring out the restaurant’s computer system, Marissa had doubts about being ready to be a waitress. There were so many things to remember. The computer didn’t look like a traditional computer. There was a screen but instead of a keyboard, there were buttons for each item on the menu. Following the manual, she pretended to place an order.
Step 1: Enter server number
Step 2: Enter table number
Step 3: Enter guest number
Up until step three it didn’t seem too complicated.
“Where’s my trainee?” a voice called out.
Marissa looked up from the computer. She spotted Chip coming across the dining room. Then timidly, she raised her hand. “I’m here.”
“Oooo baby aren’t you a medieval princess!’ exclaimed Chip scanning her from head to toe.
Marissa chuckled, “Uh, thanks I guess. And um, you look just dashing in those tights.” She teased pointing to his legs.
“Honey, I have a whole new respect for women wearing these. They’re a pain in the ass to get on. The guys all hate them. But the customers, especially the old ladies, just love seeing us in these outfits. So we have to do what sells.” Then he got serious, “Now if you want dinner, you have to order before five o’clock. That gives you about twenty minutes to eat. Everyone must be at their post at five twenty sharp.”
Marissa felt uncomfortable. She hadn’t even thought about dinner. “I didn’t bring any money with me.”
Chip waved his hand at her, “Girl, one of the perks of working here is free dinner every night. That’s why I’ve been putting on so much weight.” He patted his stomach.
Marissa looked him over. He didn’t appear to have one ounce of fat on his body.
“So how do you order?”
Chip brought her over to the computer. “Press on server number. Your number will be thirty-three. Then hit employee. And type in what you want.”
Marissa stared at the buttons, “Could you help me find baked potato and Caesar salad please?”
Chip pressed the buttons, “Still no meat huh? Well, I might as well join you. I could lose a few pounds.” He then took her into the kitchen to show her that their orders showed up automatically on a computer screen for the cooks to see. They also printed out in the kitchen.
When they got their orders, Chip led them to a table in the dining room. As they sat down Marissa said, “So how long have you been working here?”
“Way too many,” he snickered. “Uh, let me see. About seven years.”
Marissa’s eyes widened, “Seven years! You don’t look that old.”
“Thank you dear. You just made a friend. I started out as a dishwasher at fourteen then worked my way up through busboy, host, and then head server. I have respect for every job in this place, except for Robert’s of course. I wouldn’t want his job,” explained Chip.
“Wow, that’s dedication,” said Marissa impressed.
“Well, I’m pretty sure I couldn’t find another employer who would put up with my crap. And the money is good. What about you? You don’t seem like the type of girl to make a career out of this.”
“No, not exactly,” admitted Marissa forking up a bite of salad, “I’m saving up for college.”
“What about your parents? Your mother seemed to be dressed well. Can’t they pitch in?” questioned Chip.
“Well, they would but not if I go to school where I want to go, in California.”
“Why are they opposed to California?”
“There are lots of reasons. First of all I want to pursue an acting career and they’re not hot about that. Then my boyfriend is out there and they’re not excited about him either. And now my mom has made up some excuse about earthquakes,” Marissa explained.
“Wow, we have so much in common girlfriend!” exclaimed Chip excitedly. “Let’s see, my boyfriend just moved to San Francisco and I
’m totally bummed out. And I love acting!”
“Really?” said Marissa amused.
“Yes, I do a lot of community theatre. I hope to break into Broadway one day,” said Chip.
Marissa’s eyes lit up, “That would be so cool!”
“We have to get moving,” said Chip clearing the table, “but if you need to get out, you can come dancing with me on Friday.”
“Thanks, that would be great,” said Marissa. “I really do need to get out. I haven’t been dancing in ages.”
Marissa brought a change of clothes to go to the club after work. They wouldn’t be done working before eleven but luckily nobody ever showed up at The Shelter until eleven thirty anyway. She felt a strange excitement that evening. She hadn’t been to The Shelter since before Daniel had left. It had been almost eight months. And even then, she had only gone on teen nights. Now that she was eighteen, she could go whenever she wanted.
Tonight, Chip was letting her wait on a table all by herself. She had been training and studying all week. Still she was afraid she might mess it up. There were hundreds of steps to remember. Chip would be there to observe but all the work was up to her.
Chip explained the play by play. “Now we’re going to start easy. I’m going to give you a two top. That way you’ll have less things to remember.”
Marissa nodded her head nervously, “O.K.”
In the beginning of their shift, Chip kept getting tables of four or five. Marissa followed him, carried out drinks and brought out bread.
Finally close to eight o’clock, a young couple came in. Chip pushed her forward. “Here’s your cue. Good luck!”
Marissa walked up briskly to the table and placed two cocktail napkins in front of her customers, which told the hostesses the table was being served. “Good evening. My name is Marissa and I will be your server for this evening. May I start you off with a cocktail?”
The man peered around Marissa and said, “Where is Chip? I was told this is Chip’s section.”
Marissa blushed, “It is sir, however I’m training with Chip and I’m responsible for this table.”
The man looked angry, “I don’t want an amateur server.”
The woman touched the man’s hand and said, “It’s O.K. dear.” And then looking up kindly at Marissa said, “I’ll have a José Cuervo Margarita on the rocks, no salt.”
Marissa scribbled down what she could on the paper and then turned to the man, “And for you sir?”
“I’ll have a dry Martini with an olive,” he grumbled.
Marissa forced a smile, “I’ll be right back with those drinks and some bread.”
“And some water!” the lady called out.
Marissa ran back to the server stand to punch in her order for the bar. Ozay Corvo margarita? She couldn’t find Ozay Corvo anywhere.
After a minute or two, Chip came up to her and asked, “How’s it going?”
By this time she was sweating over the computer, “What is an Ozay Corvo margarita? I can’t find it.”
Chip laughed. “You mean José Cuervo. It’s a brand of tequila. You have to ask for it at the bar. Then push the button for premium liquor on the screen.”
Marissa ran to the bread counter grabbed a basket of bread to drop off before going to the bar.
“I asked for water,” said the lady rudely as Marissa dropped off the bread.
“Coming right up,” said Marissa as she ran to the bar.
A lineup of servers stood waiting at the bar for their drink orders. Marissa hadn’t expected a lineup. She didn’t know whether she should get the water or wait. She glanced around to see if she could spot Chip. He wasn’t anywhere to be seen. She decided to wait.
After what seemed like an eternity, Marissa brought the drinks to her table.
“Finally!” exclaimed the man. “We were dying of thirst here?”
“I’m terribly sorry,” said Marissa, “the bar is very busy.”
“You could have at least brought us our water,” snapped the lady.
“Yes, I apologize.” Gosh, she thought. Were people always this rude and impatient?
“Can I bring you an appetizer? Would you like some potato skins or peel and eat shrimp?” asked Marissa as she used her suggestive sale techniques.
“Is it free?” asked the man obnoxiously.
Marissa forced a smile. “No sir, it is not.”
“Then, I don’t want it. We’re ready to order,” he barked.
Marissa took out her notepad. “O.K. Please go ahead ma’am.”
“I will have the steak and shrimp dinner. I would like my steak well done. It comes with a baked potato right?” asked the lady.
Marissa nodded her head, “Yes, a loaded baked potato with bacon, sour cream and butter.”
The lady spoke up, “No bacon. Sour cream and butter on the side.”
“Would you like soup or salad with that?” asked Marissa.
“Soup,” answered the lady.
“And for you sir?”
“I’ll have the steak dinner, medium, with the loaded baked potato. And I’ll have the salad with blue cheese dressing,” said the man.
Marissa jotted everything down as fast as she could, punched the order into the computer, and ran back to the kitchen to make the salad and gather up the soup. While she was in the midst of making the salad, Chip came up next to her. “Listen girlfriend, I am slammed. You’re on your own unless there is an emergency. Robert just gave me a party of ten.”
“O.K.” said Marissa anxiously. She grabbed the soup and salad and was off.
She set down the food and went to grab the water pitcher to refill the water when the man spoke up, “You forgot to take our drink order.”
Marissa was confused, “Excuse me?”
“For dinner. You didn’t ask us what we wanted to drink during dinner. You just ran off,” the man insisted.
“I’m terribly sorry. What would you like to drink?”
“We’d like a bottle of Bandol.”
Damn, she thought. That meant going back to the bar. She put down the water pitcher and ran to the bar. Luckily the line wasn’t too long this time. In minutes she was back at the table with the bottle of wine, which she presented to the man. He nodded his head. Then she took the knife part of the wine opener and peeled off the foil. Then she opened her corkscrew and introduced it into the cork. Next she twisted the corkscrew about halfway into the cork. She placed the guide on the side of the bottle, and pulled. The cork refused to budge. Great, she thought, What now? She screwed the corkscrew further into the bottle and the cork started to break.
The man rolled his eyes. The woman just stared.
Finally the man held out his hand. “Would you like me to try?”
“Sure,” said Marissa embarrassed. She handed over the bottle.
The man placed the bottle in between his legs and with minimal effort popped out the cork. Marissa bent over to take the bottle to pour but the man held out his palm like a policeman saying, ‘Stop!’. “Don’t bother,” he snickered.
Blood rushed to her cheeks and she wanted to cry. Instead she ran into the kitchen to check on her order. It wasn’t ready. She went back to the table to clear the dishes.
Upon seeing her, the man went into attack mode once again. “Isn’t our food ready yet?” he barked.
“I’m sure it will be ready soon sir. Would you like me to bring you more bread while you are waiting?”
“Now why would I want to fill up on bread when I’m paying eighteen dollars for a steak dinner?” the man yelled as he poured himself another glass of wine.
“I’ll go check on your order,” said Marissa nervously.
She felt a knot in her throat as if the tears were going to fall any minute. At that point she didn’t even care if she received a tip or not, she just wanted the customers to leave. Once in the kitchen she asked one of the chefs, “Is my order almost up?’
The chef looked at her sympathetically, “I know you’re new here. But let me te
ll you, when someone orders a steak well done, it takes a long time. It should be a couple more minutes.”
Marissa went back to the server stand. She let herself cry a few tears. There was no way she was going back to the table without the food.
When the food was finally ready, she had recovered from her emotions.
“Here is your dinner,” she said cheerfully setting down the plates. “Be careful, they’re hot.”
Like a ravenous animal after killing its prey, the man dug into his steak. “This is not medium, “ he screamed. “It’s rare! I ordered my steak medium!”
At once Marissa swiped the plate out from under him and ran into the kitchen. She plopped it down on the counter and burst into tears. Servers around her ran to her rescue asking, “What’s wrong?” and “How can I help?”
Marissa wiped her face and said, “Can someone find Chip for me please?”
The second Chip appeared Marissa said, “It’s an emergency!” She explained everything to him as fast as she could and finished by saying, “And I can’t go back out there.” Then she burst into tears once again.
Chip talked to the head chef then ran out of the kitchen. Marissa stood there feeling foolish but not knowing what to do.
A few minutes later Chip came back into the kitchen and said sympathetically, “The guy’s a bastard. He’s always like that when he comes in here. It’s not you, girlfriend. I’m really sorry I left you on your own. It’s my fault. I shouldn’t have abandoned you on your first table.”
Marissa sniffed, ‘So what do I do?”
“I brought him a new steak. Go back out there and see how they’re doing. I’ll stay close by just in case. But he shouldn’t give you any more trouble,” Chip reassured her.
Marissa wondered why the man wouldn’t give her any more trouble but she followed through. And as Chip had predicted, the couple finished, paid and left without any further remarks.
On the way to the club, Marissa asked Chip, “So what did you say to that guy to make him stop bothering me?”
Chip laughed, “I told him if he didn’t stop harassing my trainee I’d throw him out of the place.”
Forbidden Fruit: An Unlikely Love Story Page 14