Dimensia Page 16
Chapter: Seven.
When I woke up the next morning, the alarm next to my bed read noon. Pigeon poop. We had crashed, overslept, regretting the fact that I hadn't set the alarm. Fact. As I hopped out of bed and rushed around, I realized it was Saturday and I was scheduled to work a lunch shift that required me to be there by eleven. I ran to the restroom, washed my face and brushed my teeth. I then headed to my closet, grabbed my work clothes and bolted for the door (only after kissing a sleeping Comfort on the cheek). Shuffling to my car, I began the drive to work. Moments later I pulled up to the restaurant and parked in the designated employee parking area, immediately greeted by my manager standing at the backdoor having a cigarette. Knowing I might be in trouble, I proceeded to approach.
"Somebody oversleep?" the manager asked with a mischievous look. I cringed, now feeling extra-crunchy.
"Yes sir, I'm sorry, it won't happen again." I replied, embarrassed. He took a final drag of his cigarette and flicked it down at his feet. In a fluid motion, he raised his right foot and met the cherry with his shoe, extinguishing it while twisting his foot at the ankle.
"Well, just don't make it a habit," he said, as he raised his head to acknowledge me.
"It's your lucky day because we're just now starting to get busy, you haven't missed much," he winked. Then he placed his right hand on my shoulder and exhaled the smoke trapped in his lungs. Thankfully, I was not in trouble. I confidently grinned and entered the backdoor of the restaurant while beginning to tuck in my shirt and tie on my apron.
Walking towards the host station to check my section, I became aware of the fact that I had just been sat a table. I inhaled a deep breath and began walking toward my section to greet the table and to grab their drink order. A typical section would consist of three booths that could seat approximately four to six people plus a round table that could seat parties of eight. My table consisted of two adults with two small children. Approaching the booth, I introduce myself and ask to take their drink order. With the drink order in hand, I head toward the service station and begin filling their drinks. After dropping off their drinks, I receive their food order. I hadn't worked since receiving my new talent. I found work much easier now. I didn't have to run to my section every thirty seconds to see if I was seated, or feel the need to check my tables to see if anyone needed refills, or even go to the kitchen to check on food status. Now I could see all of the above without wasting countless trips to and from.
Before I could check the time, the lunch shift was coming to a close and I found myself sitting at an empty booth near the rear of the restaurant, now cut, which meant I was free to go. I had completed my side work, cleaned my section of food droppings, and refilled the sugar caddies and Parmesan canisters. Finished, I checked out with the server in charge of side work and closed out for the day with the manager who accepted the cash I received from patrons. A smile on my face, I headed for the back of the restaurant to exit while counting my tips from the day. To my surprise I had made a total of ninety-four dollars, more than I had ever made on a lunch shift. On lunch shifts the food prices are cheaper, making the average check lower and yielding less in the amount of tips, you see. I was happy, seeing as I worked a total of three hours. I had made around thirty dollars an hour. I knew that I owed most of this to my new talent, which had saved me those normal trips about the restaurant and consequently allowed me more time with the guests. With a smile on my face, I hopped into my car and ensued the drive home.
Arriving, I parked in my parking space and looked up to my apartment but Comfort was not present. I focused with my talent to her apartment and saw her not there, either. I assumed she had left for work already and that I had just missed her. I grabbed my work clothes from the backseat of my car and walked up the stairs to my apartment. Upon entering my apartment, I discovered a note on the counter with Comfort's handwriting. I opened the neatly folded note that revealed her beautiful penmanship.
"Left for work, should return around ten. Love, Comfort." Placing the note back on the counter I began to change out of my work clothes. I then decided to do a little research on the different colors I had written about on the notebook in Psychology class.
Sitting at my computer I decided to Google colors. To my surprise, I found a lot of information on colors and their different meanings. After reading various articles online, something I realized I had displaced was that red, blue and yellow are known as the primary colors. The secondary colors are those in combination of the primary colors. White and black are not considered to be colors at all. This lead me to question, if the other colors were a combination of the primary colors, would they also be the same in meaning? After some time of filtering through the endless webpages, I printed off the most logical explanation of the color spectrum I could find and began reading the different interpretations.