After months of lazying around, Bart had to adjust back to the idea of waking up before noon again.
He showed up early as advised by Lisa, not knowing what to expect. He was welcomed by the owner who introduced himslef as Dave and who gave him an ugly orange apron he would have to wear everyday. He put it on and was then left to Sarah's care.
She explained to him how he would have to memorize the menu and wait tables during service while she introduced the rest of the café to him. It was a fairly small place, the type to have its regulars hang out during their lunch break and after their work day.
"Just so you know," Bart started sheepishly, "I don't know shit about coffee."
"Well then, you're gonna have to learn fast, because it's starting now. Also, Dave works in the kitchen, I sometimes help so you might be left alone some days."
Bart was everything but convinced by her words as they stood behind the counter.
"Remember to smile and be nice to customers, alright? You can always make some extra cash with the tips if you know what you're doing." She winked at him, confident it would encourage him to work hard. But Bart was still skeptical.
"Let me guess, the customer is always right?" He asked with a smirk.
"Oh, no, no, sweetie, of course the customer is always right... in their own little fantasy world," she chuckled and turned the small sign at the door from 'closed' to 'open'. "Tell you what. If you have an issue with any customer, just call me and I'll handle it."
The first couple of customers walked in and Bart greeted them with an awkward smile, along with Sarah who put on more of a show, sometimes even calling customers by name.
Bart was torn. The workers there seemed nice enough to want to help him. Perhaps he could give to job a chance.
"Here, I'll show you how to make coffee."
Bart struggled through his first day of work. He had so much to memorize, all the items on the menu, the orders of each customers, which table ordered what, and he could tell some people weren't too happy to have their order mixed up more often than he wanted to admit.
Rush hour was even worse and Bart was thankful for Sarah's help; she sometimes looked like she had extra arms, even a clone of herself to take care of all the extra work. Guilt was starting to gnaw at him, he felt far from good enough to handle the job. During a smoke break that felt more than welcome, he wondered if he should just leave altogether. He wasn't cut out for this, they should find someone better. He pulled on his cigarette, glad that no one from his family could see him smoke.
"Bart, come here." It was getting late and the young man was thankful for the calm after the chaos the day had been, dealing with all the customers, some of whom probably thinking they were too important to say hello or even treat him with some form of dignity. His feet and legs hurt from all the walking and running, still he walked to the counter where his boss and his colleague were waiting for him. He approached them, worried about their feedback on the disaster.
"So, how are you holding up? Still alive, I hope?" Sarah snickered. Bart frowned at her, far too tired to take the joke.
"I feel I could die any minute. Are we done, finally?"
"Yup, we're closing up," Dave reassured him. "Today was hard work, but I'm counting on you to do better tomorrow."
Bart hesitated. On one hand, he'd been hoping they wouldn't want him after his piss-poor performance, and he would come home, telling anyone interested "Well, I tried." On the other hand, he felt a certain pride. He was exhausted, but happy enough to have made it till the end.
"So, how was it?" Lisa entered the bedroom where Bart was lying on his bed, one arm over his eyes. He felt like his whole body was melting and his head was pounding. He couldn't wait to go to sleep.
"Horrible," he grumbled.
"What was horrible, the job, or how you did?"
"Ah, just... how I did. They want me in tomorrow, for some reason, but... I don't think I'm cut out for the job." Bart paused, staring at the ceiling. Those were the words he remembered saying everytime he started working somewhere. It had started to be a theme with him years ago. For every thing he tried and failed, he simply found no passion or excitement to persevere. It even showed in his past relationships – girlfriends that came and went, and he never tried to hold them back. He simply found no enthusiasm in effort. Laziness, they all call it.
"Oh, don't say that, you'll-" Lisa started, clearly worried for her brother.
"I was a mess all day, I kept fucking up and I-"
"Hey," she interrupted before he said too much. "That was your first day. You'll do better tomorrow, alright?"
"Sure, until they find someone that's actually competent," he snorted.
"Stop. From what you told me, you can only get better, and they're giving you a chance, Bart."
Maybe. Maybe Lisa was right. As she added before leaving Bart to rest - "How could the next day be any worse?"