Free Way to Go by Tom Ryan Page A

somewhere, a huge load of dishes would come in from the dining room, or the dishwasher would malfunction, leaving me soaked and the dishes still dirty.
    When I fell behind, JP always kept his cool, but I knew I was holding him up. Luckily, the customers didn’t seem to mind waiting for their food. We were packed every night, and the Sandbar was getting rave reviews. It was great that the restaurant was doing well, but it didn’t make me feel any better about being the weak link.
    A couple of evenings after my night on the hill with Lisa, I was crossing the kitchen with a stack of plates, fresh out of the dishwasher. JP turned around quickly with a hot pan of food, and when I moved to get out of his way, I tripped, and the plates flew out of my hands. I watched in horror as they landed on the service counter and smashed into a million pieces. Shards of broken pottery sprinkled a row of freshly plated entrees that JP had just put up for one of Ken’s tables. I froze as Denise came rushing into the kitchen, followed closely by Ken.
    â€œWhat was that?” she asked. Then she saw the mess I’d made. She covered her face with her hands. “Danny, Danny, Danny. What the…No, I can’t deal with this right now.” She turned around and walked out of the kitchen. I looked at JP, who had quickly turned back to the stove to remake the orders.
    â€œOkay, guy,” he said. “Scrape those plates into the garbage, and then sweep it up. Pronto.”
    â€œWay to go, guy,” Ken sneered. “Now I get to explain to the customers why their food isn’t ready yet.” He gave the swinging door a heavy smack on his way back out to the dining room. I lifted my middle finger at his back, and was momentarily pleased to hear JP chuckle.
    I felt like shit, but there was no time to stop and feel sorry for myself. I did as he told me and got the mess cleaned up, then dove back into the dish pit and tried my best to get things under control. JP managed to pull everything together in short order, and soon enough, things were back on track.
    â€œDon’t worry, guy,” he said. “Everyone has accidents. That’s the business for you.”
    Somehow that didn’t make me feel any better. The rest of the shift seemed to drag on forever, and Denise didn’t look at me for the rest of the evening.
    The next day, when I got to work, I found her giving a tour of the kitchen to Parker, a sullen younger kid I recognized from school. She was explaining how to use the dishwasher.
    â€œHey, Dan,” she said. “Why don’t you go wait in the dining room for me.” I went out and sat at one of the tables, my chin in my hands. I figured I was lucky to have lasted this long. I couldn’t blame Denise if she fired me; I was a total disaster as a dishwasher. After a few minutes, she came out and sat across the table from me.
    â€œSo, this probably won’t surprise you,” she said, “but the whole dishwashing thing just isn’t working out. I hate to say it, buddy, but you are definitely not cut out for the dish pit.”
    â€œIt’s okay,” I said, trying not to sound as miserable as I felt. I moved to stand up from the table. “Thanks a lot for giving me a chance. It was really cool working for you.”
    â€œHang on,” she said, “where are you going? I didn’t say you were fired, I said you were a terrible dishwasher.”
    I didn’t understand. “Do you want me to wait tables?”
    â€œHell, no. If you were even half as bad at that as you were at washing dishes, this place wouldn’t last a week. No, I was thinking that I’d put you to work with JP.”
    â€œReally?”
    â€œHe’s really been slammed, and I can tell that he’s only barely keeping his shit together. I’m pretty sure if I don’t get him some help soon, he’s going to quit, and then we’re all screwed.”
    â€œDo