Page 19 of In The Shadows


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Oh, thank goodness. I shuffle in my seat and look up to her.

“My name is Calliope, but I prefer Callie,” I whisper.

“Callie,” Alana says, writing it down in her notepad.

I smile at her and wait for her to finish before I speak up again. I hope she doesn’t think anything is wrong with me when I ask this.

“I thought you said we would do my name tag on our lunch break? How come we are doing it now?” I asked, looking away from the application form.

She smiles at me and puts her notepad into the front pocket of her apron. What is she going to say now? Have I fucked it up already? I have yet to start officially. Fuck sakes.

“I have ten minutes to make it now. It doesn’t take long to make a name tag, silly!” she chuckles.

“Okay! Thank you, I appreciate that. Also, thank you for giving me this opportunity to work here! I will do the best I can!” I say, smiling.

“Sure! It’s not a problem! I’ll make that name tag for you now and then show you the basics if you’d like—to get the rundown on what to do.” She smiles.

“I would like that, thank you!” I say.

She smiles and walks back to the counter. I see her shuffling through stuff like she is looking for something. She finally places a little sign on top of the counter that reads, “Back in 10 minutes,” in bold black letters. She puts that there so people know she is on break.

She then disappears through the door to the right of the counter and closes it behind her.

How long will she be? The anticipation is killing me.

Finally, Alana walks back through the door, smiling after what feels like forever.

“Here you go, Callie!” she says, handing me my name tag.

I take it from her, holding it in my hands, admiring it. This is it. I did it. I finally fucking did it. This is freedom!

“Do you like it?” she asks, bouncing from one foot to the other.

I look up at her from my seat. “Thank you, Alana. I love it, truly.” How did she do it so fast?

I quickly stand up, grab my apron, and put it on. I check Alana’s apron to see where she’s placed her name tag, and see I have it in the right place. I looked down at it. I’m officially a working woman!

“Let’s start the shift!” says Alana, and she turns and leads the way.

I follow her to the back of the counter. Okay, this can’t be that hard. All I have to do is listen and do exactly what Alana says, and I will do fine!

She stands by the large coffee machine at the end. She starts to point at all the different aspects of it: the buttons, levers, trays that catch the coffee drips, and the cups we use to put the coffee in.

“This is the easiest job you can do. You get the right cup size, whether small, medium, or large. Then, put it under the coffee machine’s spout and press the screen button that correlates with the customer’s order. The machine will do the rest.” she says as she presses the hot chocolate button.

I watch the machine sputter to life, and deep, dark liquid comes spilling out of the spout and into the cup. That looks so good.

“Then you just give the order to the customer. If they ask for milk and sugar, all you have to do is point them in that direction,” she says, pointing towards the milk station.

I look over where she is pointing and notice a black cart with numerous shelves. The top shelf has milk and napkins, the middle has sugar packets, and the bottom has spare stirrers and cups. Above the cart, a neon sign is flashing Milk Station.

“That is pretty much it for the coffee machine. Suppose they ask for a muffin, toasted sandwich, or piece of cake. Then, take it out of the fridge and place it on the tray for them. Everything is already on a plate.” She shrugs. This seems easy enough.

“Okay, I think I got it. I’m ready to start.” I say enthusiastically.

“Great! If you have any problems, shout me!” she says as she walks over to take the sign back off the counter.

Within minutes, the entrance is like a revolving door. People are coming in quickly. Okay, I can do this. First shift, first day. We got this, Callie. The first customer comes to the counter. He is wearing a navy suit, black tie, and black shoes. He even carries a briefcase. He must be a businessman of some sort.

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