Rory placed the apron over his head. It felt heavier than he expected. John was pointing at something but he words were lost to him as he tried to tie the strings behind his back. It was hard to get the bow so he could thread through the other half. Each time he thought he’d done it, it all came undone.
John was walking out of the kitchen, so he ignored the apron.
“And once you’ve taken the dishes, you go straight to the customer.”
Rory looked back, unsure where these dishes came from.
He scanned the empty cafe, trying to imagine people having coffees and food. And him trying to figure out where the food was to go.
John pointed to the furthest table saying it was number one, and behind them, by the toilet, was 32. No one usually sat there, so when he had a break, he could sit there eating his food.
John placed a hand on Rory’s shoulder, turning him around. He tied the apron strings, and Rory felt the heft of the material.
John walked to the front door and unlocked it.
Rory watched the early morning of the high street, with only a lone woman walking her dog passing by the other side.
Rory wiped down some tables until a couple came in. They looked at him expectantly. He wasn’t sure what he was to do.
“Do we just sit anywhere?”
From behind the counter, John answered them. And apologised that Rory was on his first day.