Sylvie: Chapter Six
TL;DR - It's Sylvie's first night at work. She meets her co-worker and gets a general feel for the job. By the end of the night, she realizes this might not be so bad.
Sylvie is rushing to get to work - more from nerves, than anything - even though she has plenty of time. She finally gets to meet her meerkat co-worker, Mary, who shows her the ropes of how things operate. She also learns a few tricks of the trade before Mary leaves her alone to go on break. By the end of the night, after experiencing the job and collecting her tips, she realizes High Tails might not be such a bad place to work.
This is Sylvie's first "real world" job as it has permanence - her previous jobs were only temporary - and the first where she is treated like an equal. Because of this, she's able to forget about her mom for a while and gain a real feeling of self-worth; for once she feels like she truly belongs somewhere.
If you see anything which really bothers you let me know. We all have our distinct writing styles but egregious errors need to be called out. Please comment if you like (or don't) or ask any questions you might have. As always, please don't use my characters without my permission.
"Shit, shit, shit!" Sylvie ran around the house, trying to gather up her things for work, trying to figure out what she would need for work to gather up. She wasn't going to be late, not really, but she would be arriving later than she wanted and that was too late enough.
"Shit, shit,...fuck!" She collapsed onto the futon, viciously rubbing her knee where she'd smacked it against its arm, as if it would somehow remove the pain. What it did do, however was give her a moment to collect herself and calm down. She used the breathing techniques from a meditation book she'd once read and felt herself come more inline with how she wanted to be. True, her knee hurt like hell but there was little she could do for it now.
Making a mental list of things she'd seen other waitresses use, she checked off the ones she'd already found and thought about where the next few would be. Limping to the drawer and cabinet, she pulled out an apron and pad of paper, respectively. Reflecting on the stiffness in her leg, she wondered why she hadn't been more careful earlier and why hindsight had to be so damn clear. A chance look at the clock showed she had a few minutes more than she'd thought. The throbbing in her knee yelled told you so and she went to the bedroom to get changed.
Sliding out of her shorts let loose stray bits of sand, which was completely expected. She had considered wearing them to work - they _were_jean shorts, after all - but didn't want to press the issue until she found out more about the dress code from Mary. She wasn't so certain about the shirt Tiffany had picked out but, at least, it was clean and free of the more provocative slogans the tiger had urged. The last bit was the shoes, which were sensible and comfortable...which meant anything but fashionable. She'd worn heels for a week during one temp job and she refused to do that again. Besides, it was Tiffany and crew who were to be admired, not her, and that suited her fine.
Making the way to her front door, she mentally checked off everything once more before opening it. The weather outside had cooled a bit and caused her to shiver. Given the temperature, and fitment of the shirt, she was glad she'd decided to wear the bra Tiffany and Heather had chosen. Closing the door found her alone on the sidewalk and she paused long enough to plug ear buds into her phone and her ears before setting off to the bus stop.
/ / /
Whether it was the fact she had been looking out the window, listening to her music, or the fact that karma couldn't be that_much against her, the bus ride to work was much more free of drama than the previous few times. Stops and times were maintained but Sylvie didn't notice as many people getting on or off as the other day. _Perhaps because it's Sunday, she reasoned as she got up in preparation for her stop. The driver saw her in the mirror and began slowing the bus.
At the stop, there was a family of four foxes, both fathers struggling to keep the kids in control. One of them finally said something and pointed toward her. Almost immediately the children straightened up and scrambled aboard the bus, followed by the father who had pointed. The other gave a small smile of apology, as if it would make everything alright, and climbed aboard himself.
Sylvie couldn't say she wasn't used to it but that didn't mean it didn't bother her. She stood, watching the bus drive away, strongly fighting back the urge to extend her finger and tell them what she was thinking. Once it was out of sight, she gave her usual sigh of resignation and turned to make her way to High Tails.
Because I have a job! She put the exclamation point on the thought and while it didn't make her feel better it did little to take the sting out of the fox's behaviour. If one minority group in society couldn't empathize with another then what chance did they have? Turning up the music on her phone, she allowed herself to drift away and began walking to the beat.
The club was less than a ten minute walk and the couple songs had been a bit more upbeat - she made the trip in seven. The door she knocked at the first night stood waiting for her and she debated on whether or not to knock. True, she was now an employee but not _that_type of employee and didn't know if she was still allowed in that entrance. The rumbling from the other side told her she was out of time, however, and moved out of the way before the door crashed opened. Synthia stood with a bag of trash in her hand, looking as surprised as Sylvie.
"Well, did Firgil decided to hire your dumb ass or not?" she said with her characteristic warmth. "Are you going in or not? I'm not holding the door all night."
Sylvie reached out and caught the door as Synthia walked away, presumably taking the trash to a dumpster out back. Walking inside, she debated about waiting for the serval to return. Reasoning she must have a key - or not - Sylvie let the door close behind her and continued down the hall. Just before reaching the dancer's room, she heard a bang on the door and something being shouted from the other side.
She allowed herself a little smile.
"Oh, hey, y'all, Sylvie's here!" Misti said, turning around while attempting to adhere a tassel. "Synthia let you in, I see." There was a bang as the door slammed closed and it was impossible to not hear the angry muttering coming down the hallway.
"You could say that," Sylvie said, not turning around, though she clearly heard the serval pause for a second before going off to wherever she was going. I'm going to have to fix this situation before it becomes worse, she thought. Just, maybe, not tonight.
"Come on," Misti said, only one tassel attached. "I'll show you to Mary. She's such a good person. I think you two will get along really well." She said all this while walking backward, bumping the door open with her rear while fumbling with the adornment. Considering where the action was taking place, Sylvie felt her eyes drawn to the mouse's breast while, simultaneously, trying to find anything else to look at. She could feel her ears blushing and tried to hide the smile threatening to emerge.
Unlike the other night, Misti brought Sylvie through the stage entrance. The skunk froze at the bright lights and not being able to see what was in the dark on the other side. Misti looked up from her tassel-attaching and saw her reaction.
"It takes some getting used to but it's not always this bright." She turned her head to shout off-stage. "Hey, Mark! Turn down the lights!"
"About fucking time," a mumble came from behind a half-pane of glass. In very short order, the lights were dimmed to the point where Sylvie could see the emptiness and layout of the club.
"Some nights, it helps not to see the clientele at first and, some nights, you just don't want to see them at all." Misti reached out and took a swing around a pole. "It helps some of the more shy gals to get used to dancing. You know, if you wanted, you could always--"
"Misti!" a voice called from the right side of the room. Sylvie looked to see a tall, thin figure staring intently at them. "She's here to work, not converse."
Misti frowned briefly and sighed. "And that would be Mary," she said, straightening up and leading Sylvie the rest of the way. "Mary, this is Sylvie."
"Yes, I've been told. Now you can go back and finish getting ready." Sylvie waited for the tension to rise but Misti seemed to take it in stride.
"Alright, Mom," she said, resigned. "I'll see you after work, Sylvie." With that, she literally bounced away back the way she came.
Sylvie waited until Misti made it to the stage before turning back to Mary. The look on the meerkat's face suggested displeasure but, when Misti must have disappeared, she turned to Sylvie and gave a huge grin.
"Thank you for taking the job," she said, extending her hand. "You don't know how much it means to me."
Sylvie took the hand out of reflex but was at a loss for words at being the one thanked. "I should be thanking you for taking me on."
"Dear, and I mean no disrespect by this, but I would be willing to take most anyone on right now. I'm not as young as I used to be and will take all the help I can get. I told Firgil as much and told him to get someone worthwhile. I'm thinking he did a good job."
Sylvie didn't know what to make of Mary's candor. "Okay," was about all she was able to say, mixed emotions swirling inside her. Apparently, her feelings must have shown on her face.
"Yeah, that was shit way of explaining it. What I meant to say is I'm not getting any younger and these," she put her hands to the small mounds on her chest and jiggled them, "aren't exactly attracting crowds." At this, Sylvie couldn't help but laugh and understood where Mary was coming from.
"I hope you'll say the same after tonight."
"If you can write, walk, and carry a drink you'll do fine. Come on. I'll show you what you need to know and we'll get you up and running."
The next twenty minutes were spent showing Sylvie the location of most of the things she might need, including Will's supplies since he had the night off. It became apparent quite quickly Sylvie had overthought what she might need and, indeed, Mary already had backups of backups.
"One thing you might want to keep here, though, is an extra change of clothes. There's no telling when you'll spill something on yourself or, just as likely, have something spilled on you." Mary rolled her eyes, leaving Sylvie to wonder how many time this had happened to the meerkat. "Oh, and I would avoid light coloured shirts, unless you're really gunning for tips. On a busy night it gets warm in here and you will sweat.
"It's funny - servers are some of the most overworked and underpaid people on the planet. Tips are good when they're good but miserable when they aren't. We're just lucky Firgil is willing to pay a steady base wage regardless of tips."
"And do you get good tips, if you don't mind me asking?" Sylvie didn't know if she'd just committed a faux pas but Mary didn't seem perturbed.
"On good nights, it's all I can do to keep the tips from falling out of my pockets - your best bet is to put them in your bag with your spare clothes. On bad night...it's still worth my time. At the end of the year, it's reported I earn a decent living. What I truly take home, however, is a bit more comfortable."
They shared a laugh and Sylvie was glad they were finally getting used to one another. She wasn't sure how long that would last once she started sharing tips with Mary but hoped it wouldn't devolve into something unpleasant. She'd heard of many friendships being broken up over money and had promised to keep herself above that.
"Really, that's about all there is - keep everyone happy, in food and drink, and have fun."
"What if someone has a complaint?" Sylvie hoped it would never come up but knew it was inevitable when dealing with the public.
Mary shrugged. "Deal with it as best you can. If they gripe enough, and it's about the food, get Roger. If it's about anything else, use your judgment. I don't think you'll find it to be much of a problem, though. In all the years I've been here, I get maybe one complaint a month, which is usually easily fixed. Only twice have I ever had a problem Firgil questioned me about and he agreed with how I handled it both times.
"Which does remind me: don't accept wandering hands from customers. What I mean is you're here to serve them, not _serve_them. Some might try to sneak a touch here-and-there. That is one thing Firgil is very much against. Politely remind them the first time, tell Bob or Bruce the second time. Don't allow them to harass you. This can be especially trying when they've had too much to drink. Usually the bears let them know who's boss before it becomes an issue but they can't be everywhere at once."
This was an aspect which had concerned her, of course, but the thought of someone, anyone, willingly wanting to touch a skunk was a foreign concept. Someone getting plastered and saying unflattering things was, in her experience, much more likely. Them being drunk didn't mean it wouldn't hurt any less to hear what they had to say but - and she chuckled at the thought - the fact she could have someone unnecessarily mean tossed out was a consolation.
"Understood."
"Good. Now are you ready to start the night?"
With that question, Sylvie felt a shiver pass through her. Until now, it had all been theoretical. "Sure," she said, though she was far from it. "How do you want to do this?"
"Well, let's start off with you shadowing me for a while and see how it goes. When you're ready, I can set you loose and we can see how you do from there. Sound good?"
"Yes," Sylvie said, trying to hold back the relief she was feeling.
Mary smiled. "Excellent. Let's go." She tuned around and Sylvie began the first night of her job.
For the first hour she was a bundle of nerves even though she was doing nothing more than walking around with Mary and, for one particularly large table, helped carry the drinks. She didn't have time to watch who was dancing and, indeed, only knew someone different was on stage when she realized the music had changed. Not that she had ever thought being a server was easy, she didn't realize just how much actually went into doing the job. She watched how Mary interacted with various customers, subtly changing her approach and tone based upon how many there were, their body language, and, more often, their species.
"For the most part, the real world does not exist in here," Mary said when Sylvie asked during a small break. "Everyone on stage knows not everyone views them like Firgil does and, no offense intended to many of our customers, but the likelihood anyone here would date them is small. That said, it does not mean that certain stereotypes don't carry over. For instance, those who are generally discriminated against out there act similarly in here even though we don't treat them that way. You can usually suggest beer or soda to those who appear blue collar; white collar folks get the better spirits. More exotic species prefer drinks from their homeland. This isn't a hard and fast rule, though."
They watched Rachael seating a couple of tired looking dogs, with an equally stressed cat, all dressed in jeans and t-shirts. One of the dogs had his hands in pockets, looking less pleased than the other two.
"We'll go see in just a moment but what do you think they'll order?"
Sylvie watched as they sat, wiggling into one of the crescent-shaped booths. "Three beers," she said uncertainly.
Mary smiled. "Anything to eat?" Nothing in particular suggested the three were hungry.
"No."
Mary nodded. "I call two beers, one soda, two hamburgers, and a fish sandwich." Sylvie looked at her with suspicion. "Let's go see."
A few minutes later, Sylvie was filling a glass with Pepsi while Mary passed the order for the three sandwiches into the kitchen and popped the tops off two bottle of beer.
"How did you know?"
"Educated guess," Mary said. "It also helps I've been dealing with the public since you were a child. If it makes you feel any better, I wouldn't have thought the younger dog would have been the one after the fish but...." She shrugged and put the drinks on a tray. "Feel like taking these out by yourself?"
Butterflies filled Sylvie's stomach but she swallowed back her nerves, knowing she would have to do this some time. "Sure," she said and picked up the tray, almost immediately upsetting it.
"Calm down," Mary laughed, "and relax. They're not going anywhere. Feel the weight of the tray and the stuff on it. Let it become an extension of your arm."
"Sounds very Zen."
Mary laughed again. "My parents did live in a commune but, no, this is from experience. Take a breath, feel like it's part of you. It sounds strange, I know, but you'll see."
Sylvie did as she was told and made her way across the room with only a slight wobble. Setting each beer down, she almost didn't account for the unbalanced tray and caught the soda as it began to slide.
"Good hands," the cat said, taking a draw from the bottle. Sylvie felt herself blush.
"I try," the said, trying to mask the pounding in her chest. "Your food should be up in a minute." The older dog thanked her with a lift of his bottle while the younger looked at his drink in disdain. "Something wrong?" she asked.
"Nothing you can fix." Sylvie wasn't sure what to answer and was thankful when he clarified. "I lost a bet and I'm the DD tonight." Looking her in the eye, he winked. "Nice to see a pretty face, though."
Sylvie could have swore her heart stopped for a moment. He seemed to be sincere but no one had ever said anything like that to her before. Giving a nervous smile, she nodded her head in thanks and began walking back.
"What?" she heard the young dog behind her say to one of the other two. "She can't help her species and she is attractive."
Sylvie's smile grew and she practically floated back to where Mary was waiting.
"One of them said something, didn't they?"
"Yes," Sylvie said.
"I can tell," she laughed. "Good. When Nathan brings up their food you can take it out to them. I'm going to go outside and take a break for a minute. Pull the fire alarm if you need me."
As soon as Mary left, the floor seemed to fall out from under Sylvie and she began to panic. After all, it was her first night and she'd been here all of - she stole a look at the clock - three hours. _Where the hell's the time gone?_She wanted to be indignant but, given the amount of training she'd had during some of her temp jobs, three hours wasn't bad. The realization of this steadied her nerves and she took a breath to face the tables.
Selecting those who had been seated first, spearing other tables along the way, she was able to refill and check on everyone, including taking an order for food, in a short amount of time. She hoped Nathan would be able to read her writing and Roger seemed surprised when she put the order on the carousel. She checked on her table with the two dogs and the cat, ignoring the derisive look from the feline, and focusing on the younger dog while the older seemed entranced by - she looked to the stage - Amanda and Lucy. She stayed for a moment longer before checking back with the kitchen and taking the food to the requisite table. She gave out a few bills, collected more money, and came back for change and the tub to put the glasses and dishes in. The lights changed colours, the dancers changed, a few new groups and individuals came in and she chanced to serve them as best she could. By the time Mary returned, Sylvie and worked herself into a pattern and was bopping along to the music.
"Sorry I took so long," Mary said.
Sylvie looked a the clock and saw almost an hour had passed. "I didn't even realize."
"Then things must have been going alright."
"Uh, yeah. No complaints from anyone I know of. Oh," she reached into her pocket and removed a roll of bills from the tips she'd collected. "Here's this," she said, handing it over to Mary. "I didn't count it, just straightened it. It's all there, I promise."
Mary smiled. "I'm sure it is. Would you like to take a break?"
Stealing another look at the clock, Sylvie shook her head. "We close at one, correct? I'll just stick it out for another hour."
"Well, that's fine but you need to learn to pace yourself. Make another round of the tables then sit down for a few minutes. I'll keep watch."
Sylvie did as Mary suggested and a cold feeling passed through her when she saw table with the dogs and the cat was empty - she hadn't given them their bill. She very nearly missed the table of cotamundis who were motioning for her. She only heard every other word they said, she was so worried about the empty table, and had to ask them to repeat their request. Once she was certain she had it, she returned to Mary to pass along the order.
"What's wrong, dear?" Mary said, seeing the worry on Sylvie's face.
"I think I screwed up."
"Anything you can do to fix it right now?"
"No."
"Then don't worry about it. Take your break and you can tell me later."
Sylvie tried to do as she suggested and poured herself a glass of Dr. Pepper.
"Hey," Nathan said, putting a plate on the bar. "This is for you."
Sylvie looked to see a small collection of friend shrimp atop a pile of dirty rice. It was the first time she'd thought about food all night and she suddenly found herself hungry. She reached into her pocket and fished out the twenty-dollar bill she had.
"Oh, no," Nathan said, holding his hands up and backing away. "When I'm testing out new creations I don't let anyone pay."
"This is something new? It looks like you've been making this for a long time."
Nathan tilted his head in dismissal. "Presentation is seventy percent of the battle. Now, go eat and tell me what you think."
Sylvie took the plate and her drink and found a table out of sight of most everyone else. The blackened shrimp nearly drove out all thoughts of the table who'd walked out and she didn't have to try hard to finish the dish. Sitting long enough to watch Julie finish her set, Sylvie took the plate and glass back with her.
"What'd you think?" Nathan asked through the window.
"You can't keep feeding me like that - I'll become addicted."
Nathan gave a toothy smile and looked over to Roger. The raccoon looked at the newt with narrowed eyes and said nothing. Nathan winked at her and turned back to the grill.
"Alright," Mary said from behind her, causing Sylvie to jump. "Ready to finish out the night?"
"Yeah," Sylvie said with some reluctance, remembering what she'd done, "but, I think I messed up."
"How's that?"
"Remember the table with the two dogs and the cat?"
"The one where one of them said something nice to you?"
The memory made her smile. "Yes. I didn't get a chance to give them their bill. I think they walked out."
Mary laughed. "You think so, huh?" She pulled out at twenty and a ten and gave them to Sylvie. "You must have made an impression on them." The confusion must have shown on Sylvie's face as she added, "Sometimes they leave money on the table to cover their bill if they're in a hurry, leaving the rest for the tip. That cat was a stingy bastard, I'll admit, but the other two seemed pleased."
Sylvie stared at the money in her hands. Divided by the six hours she'd work, along with the minimum wage Firgil was paying, this had just become more lucrative than many of the other "more prestigious" jobs she'd applied for. She couldn't let herself think that, though, or else she'd get complacent.
"It's alright, dear," Mary said, mistaking Sylvie look as one of disappointment. "This is a slow night. It gets better."
"It's not that--"
"Order," Roger said, placing a plate on the counter, inadvertently interrupting the conversation.
"Be right back," Mary said, taking a steaming pile of deep fried something into the dining room. Sylvie followed and saw other tables in need of attention. Pocketing the money, she grabbed the plastic tub and began gathering dirty dishes.
/ / /
On the bus, she chewed on the homemade pepper chips Nathan had given her at the end of the night. Everyone seemed to be eating some and it felt good be part of a team for once. Nathan and Mary had joked with her for a bit and Roger even thanked her for grabbing the dishes so they could get started on them earlier. When a few of the dancers stopped by for whatever they'd agreed to pick up from the kitchen it was only then did she realize she hadn't seen Tiffany all night.
"Everyone gets a night off, dear," Mary explained. It would have been nice to share her first night with her friend but Sylvie could empathize with taking a break from work...now that she had a work to take a break from.
At the end of the night, Mary pulled her aside and thanked her for her help, giving her a small roll of money.
"I couldn't," Sylvie protested.
"Nonsense. We worked well together and you should benefit from it. You don't know how nice it is to have someone who's helpful and you can get along with."
Sylvie took the compliment - and the money - and promised she would be back the next night. It was only now, aboard the bus and finished with her chips, that she fished the roll from her pocket. It was mostly ones and fives but an extra thirty dollars was nothing to sneeze at and put her that much closer to having a place to live for another month.
Smiling, she watched the night world pass her by until she reached her stop and continued smiling all the way to her apartment.