call me beep me
The work day starts off a bit rough who was late to work for-- extenuating reasons. He stumbles in through the backdoor and through the kitchen, barely managing to tie his half-apron around his back. The chefs are fast at work, only a select few giving him the stink eye as he passes by without punching in, already slipping orders onto a tray and carrying them out-- The blond barely hears them yell out which table the food is actually supposed to go to, but barely is just enough.
He drops off the meals at (what he believes to be) their according before meeting Bianca at the front where she's tending to the customers as a hostess. He's relieved to see they aren't too terribly busy, but it looks like some of their current customers are going to be difficult.
(A small, middle aged blond woman with wirey, beach blond hair. She's carrying an expensive purse, and Barry watches as she takes off her leather driving gloves. Then, there's a family of seven-- the mother and father look to be too busy schmoozing with the assumed grandparents to properly watch over their children, who have somehow already made a mess with their drinks alone.)
Barry double knots the red laces of his apron and taps his fingers on the table map hidden behind the podium before glancing at Bianca, his sleeves rolled up.
"So...what's the sitch?"
