You find Randy just inside the kitchen, smoking a foul cigarette. When you tell him about the tables, his face goes sour. “I thought you were supposed to be the host.” There’s something odd about the way he says it. “And you sat two parties in my section at once?”
You
apologize. He gets an unsavory smile on his face. “That’s all right,”
he says. “We’ll take care of it. It’s your first day after all, right?”
He leads you by the bar and pours you a tumbler of a dark brown liquor
from an unlabeled bottle.
“Have one on me.” He goes off to wait his tables.
Do you…?
Quietly slip it under your station.
