“There is, but it’s written in Italian,” the guy says. “Just do whatever. Nobody ever complains about bad cocktails.”
“Yeah, you’re right.” I nod. “Just work it out between you. But make it good because I want to go back to her table at least ten times.”
“Cosmo,” Maria calls. “Plates.”
“Yeah, yeah, I’m coming, witch,” I mutter under my breath as I walk back out onto the floor. “Are you finished with these?” I ask two people.
“Yes,” the man snaps.
I glare at him. Why are people being so fucking rude in this place?
It’s like pig city.
I carry the plates back out into the kitchen and see Hayden waiting for food to take out. “What do I do with these?” I ask her.
“Scrape them off into the bin, then rinse them and stack them to the side for the dishy to do.”
“Okay.”
I scrape them off and then look at a huge thing that comes out of a large black pipe in the ceiling. It has a silver big nozzle thing on the end that looks like a drink gun. I try to read the buttons.
Is this the tap?
I look around. How is this the tap?
I hold the plate in the sink and hit the button, and a water jet capable of knocking down a war bunker hits the plate and sprays water all over me and the entire kitchen. The hot plates sizzle as the water hits them. “Ahh.” I try to turn it off, and it goes harder. The hose begins to go out of control and flick around as it sprays everywhere. Everyone is screaming and ducking for cover.
“What are you doing? Turn off the tap, you fucking idiot!”
“If it were a tap, I would,” I cry as I battle the wayward water. “This is a fucking fire hose. Get better equipment, fool.”
Hayden runs over and tries to grab the out-of-control tap as it flies around. We are both saturated. A waiter walks into the kitchen and slips in the water, dropping his tray of plates. “Sorry,” I call. “Occupational safety at its worst.”
Hayden bursts out laughing, and I do too. This is ridiculous.
“Get out of my kitchen,” the owner cries. “You idiots!”
I take off my apron, and Hayden’s eyes widen. “We’re out of here.”
“What?”
I spin her away from me and undo her apron, and I grab her hand. “Let’s go.” We run through the restaurant, and Basil’s eyes widen when he sees us. He looks around as if not sure what to do, and then he makes a run for it too. We run out onto the street and burst out laughing, completely saturated and looking like drowned rats.
“What the fuck happened to you?” Basil gasps as he looks us up and down.
“Fire hose.”
His eyes widen. “He sprayed you with the fire hose?”
“Yes,” I lie.
“Holy shit,” he cries. “We need to report him to someone. That’s just wrong, man . . . the instructions need to be in English.”
I’m laughing so hard that I can hardly stand up, and Hayden is too.
“What do we do now?” Basil asks, wide eyed.
“We go out and party.”
I breathe in deeply as I wake up from my dozing. Hmm . . . I have to get back to my room.
I have a naked woman under each arm, our legs entwined in the sheets. It was a good night.
I needed that.