„Come on, Ros, you're kidding me! THAT was your great deal, that you have been negotiating for so long? You are way better than THAT!" On their way out of the conference room, where they spent the last three hours with intense negotiations, Christian scolds Ros, his second in command, for fucking up his morning by wasting his precious time.
„Christian, please, you are exaggerating a bit here! Go to the canteen and fetch something to eat, you're developing quite a temper tantrum!" Ros replies calmly knowing her boss for so many years and reading his body language like no other. He just has to eat a snack and then she would be able to reflect on THAT deal with him on an objective basis.
„No, absolutely not! I already ate breakfast and I have work to do!" he counters defiantly.
„Please, do it for me! And bring me a granola bar on your way back, that meeting was exhausting!" she begs, knowing exactly how to pull his strings, because he just hates knowing somebody in his presence is hungry.
„God dammit, just for once, I swear! But then we'll work through to the end of this darn piece of shit you call THAT deal!" he surrenders and walks straight to the elevators. Stepping in he has to think a moment about which button to push, because he never eats at the Grey House canteen, and there are so many different floors in his building, but then he decides on the nine. After the ‚ping', signaling the arrival at the requested location, he leaves the elevator and makes a bee-line to the canteen counter, where a dim-witted looking girl with a white coat, gloves and a hairnet is obviously waiting for an order. After a swift glimpse at the menu above her head, he strides to the counter.
„I will have the ham and cheese omelette!" Christian orders, bearing in mind that he has to speak slowly in case the girl is as dumb as he thinks she is.
„You need a tray!" the girl says without acknowledging his order or moving just one finger, which fuels his anger to no end.
„Do you know who I am?" Christian threatens with all his anger pressed into his voice.
„Do you know who I am?" the girl asks cheekily, arms akimbo.
„This is not a game of who the fuck you are. My name is Grey. Christian Grey. Mister Grey. Mister Christian Grey. As in Grey House. I can fire you with a single snap of my fingers, so watch your mouth!" Christian seethes in rage, pointing a finger in her face.
„You still need a tray!" the girl now answers verbatim, like she doesn't give a shit about who Christian is, even mimicking him. Not being used to such kind of behavior, Christian must admit that he doesn't know what to say. Usually, just his glare is sufficient to compel the opponent into submission, but he tries anyway.
„No, I do not need a tray to fire you. I can fire you without a tray in my hand with the power I have over you, even though I could fire you with a tray if I so wished." Christian babbles. He's absolutely confused how it is even possible for such a plain hillbilly to stand her ground.
„Well, the food is hot and you need a tray to put the food on!" she says masterfully and looks at him like she's awaiting the moment, when the penny drops. And fuck, he drops indeed, as reluctantly as he wants to confess it, but that doesn't change his plan of action.
„Oh I see, the food is hot, I'm sorry. I did not realize!" he mocks in an obvious, but admittedly childish way. "What was your name?" Christian asks as composed as possible, savoring the lull before the storm, when he'll get her background check and fire her little ass this very day. Never EVER has he lost one battle, and now isn't the time to break his successful streak.
„I'm Ana, I work here." Ana says underwhelmed, crossing her arms over her chest. What the fuck?
„Well, Ana, you see, I'm your boss!" Christian tries to make her see that he decides her fate here at Grey House and that all he wants is just a little respect.
„You're Mr. Stevens?" Ana wonders, raising an eyebrow.
„No, I'm … Who is Mr. Stevens?" Christian asks confused. Does she really not know who he is?
„He's the head of catering." Ana explains to Christian like she would explain to a little child.
„I am not the head of catering. I'm Mr. Grey, I can fire catering with a snap of my fingers ..." Christian says, gradually losing the upper hand over his temper.
„Wha … What?" Ana interjects impatiently. Christian looks at her briefly, before he snarls at her.
„I can fire you all, I can fire me with just … ugh, fuck it, I'll get a tray!" Christian finally gives in and goes to the stack of trays next to the counter. What a humiliation! Fortunately, it isn't already noon, so there are just a few people in here, who all signed a NDA.
Unwillingly and in full awareness that she's watching, he takes the first tray, destined to win this fight in the end.
„This one's wet!" he comments and taking the next, he says: „… and this one's wet!" Continuing with his immature behavior, he repeats his actions. „... and this one's wet, this one is wet, this one is wet, this one is wet, this one is wet, this one is wet, this one is wet, this one is wet, did you dry these in a rain forest? WHY do we not have a tray that is fucking dry, I do not …" Looking up to check, if there's at least a change in her demeanor, he observes in horror, that another employee is walking towards that Ana girl with a friendly expression on his face and fuck, she smiles back at him.
„No, no, no, I was here first!" Christian interferes by speeding with a random tray in his hand to the counter, where he has to put down his foot. Once again.
„You have to form a queue if you want food!" the man says friendly to him and then looks up at the menu. „Can I have ahh … Oh! Oh! Ham and cheese omelette? That would be very nice!" His gentleness drives Christian nuts, so he interferes again.
„No, no, no, do you know who I am?" Christian asks slightly uncertain. It would be beyond belief meeting the only two people in Seattle not knowing who he is, although he signs their paycheck!
„You're Elliot Grey!" the man says delighted, raising his voice in a pleasant surprise.
„I am Christian Grey. Now fuck off or I'll fire you!" Christian commands, his nerves dangerously on edge. When he does so, Christian turns to the girl. „Now give me the ham and cheese omelette, or you shall be fired …" he screams at Ana, „… and you …" he spits in that man's face, „... and everyone in this canteen!" he yells like a maniac, breathing hard and feeling a bit light headed.
„Oh, I'm sorry, we stopped serving breakfast, but we are on lunch menu now!" Ana explains as if their whole conversation never happened.
„But I want breakfast!" Christian says firmly.
„Well, we stopped serving breakfast at 11:30." she points out. Christian looks at his watch and can't believe his eyes: it says 11:32.
„Ana, have you ever heard the expression: ‚The customer is always right'?" Christian asks.
„Yes." Ana says. Christian lays his elbow on the counter and leans forward, to explain how the law of supply and demand works.
„Well, here I am. The customer." Christian explains, just to be stopped by her.
„That is not our policy. You have to order something from the lunch menu!" Ana insists. „But hey, I'm really sorry!" she says with fake pity in her eyes, enjoying every second. Now that's it. Christians patience snaps just now.
„Yeah? I'm really sorry too!" Christian screams, before he whips a spatula out of Ana's hand, making her wince and shriek at the same time, and throwing it at the big clock at the wall behind her. "I don't want lunch!" he yells, hitting the counter with his fists. After counting to ten, he raises his head and looks at Ana, guilty conscience overcoming him instantly. He's a strict enemy of violence to woman and children and that was inexcusable.
„Do you know what? I changed my mind, I'll have a cheeseburger!" he says without any emotion in his voice and a stoic face.
„Here we go!" Ana says and prepares his meal quick as a bunny. When it's ready, she slides the food across the counter. Christian looks at his food and sighs.
„See? This is what I'm talking about! … Turn around and look at that!" He points at the picture on the menu behind her, showing an archetypal cheeseburger. "Do you see what I mean? It's … it's plump, it's juicy, it's three inches thick, now … look at this…" He holds up his burger to show what he means. „... sorry, miserable, squashed thing."
Ana draws breath to respond something, but for gods sake, Christian cannot find an ounce of strengths in him to hear just one word of it, so he lifts his hand to shut her up.
„How much is it?" he asks instead, rummaging for his wallet.
„Oh, we don't take money here, I just need your food permit A 38!" she says and he slaps his hand on his face, wanting to cry.
This story is based on Eddie Izzard's freaking awesome 'Star Wars Canteen' routine and the movies 'Falling Down' and 'The Twelve Tasks of Asterix'.