Day 6. Maid in Melbourne

“This place is a fucking joke,” Anna, a server, mumbled under her breath, windexing an already streak-free desert case.

Squeak, squeak. Wipe, wipe.

At least I wasn’t the only one on my knees, polishing and scrubbing his restaurant from head to toe. I’d been put in charge of cleaning the furniture. But the table tops and chairs were already taken care of, so my job? Was to clean the wooden table legs. Of 26 tables. Several of which have six or more legs. A marvelous and productive use of my Economics degree from McGill University. 

I was scrubbing away, trying my best to avoid another painful splinter, when I heard, “Laureen.” Ugh. 

Bashir approached me from behind. “Laureen, you are finished now,” he ordered. “Go do some brooming outside.”Some what? Impatiently, he pointed out the broom (ohhh) and picker-upper behind the fridge, and I scurried outside. 

Well, Bashir. I will be Broomer Extraordinaire. There is nothing you can throw at me that I can't handle, so THERE. 

I expected to face a mess of food, probably the remnants from a terrible two’s temper tantrum. But there wasn’t any food on the ground, no dirty napkins, no napkins of any kind, actually. I was stumped.

“Umm... which mess did you want me to clean up, exactly?” Back inside, Bashir looked at me with a mix of exasperation and condescension. Aaaaand I'm feeling one inch tall again. Lovely. “The leaves, Laureen,” he replied, eyebrows high and chin stuck out. “Now go outside and do some brooming the right way!”

Awesome. I was cleaning up after Mother Nature. Better than scrubbing table legs? I'm not really sure.

After taking care of the half-dozen menacing leaves, I headed inside to make myself useful. Or something like that.

As I scanned the back section of the restaurant for any tables that needed clearing, Anna approached me and began stacking glasses to look busy. “Do you like this job, Lauren?”

“I haven’t decided yet,” I replied, feigning indifference. “What do you think about it?”

She sighed. “I hate it. It’s the worst job I’ve had in me whole life.”

I laughed. “That’s what I was going to say.”

Anna continued, eyes darting back and forth, keeping an eye out for our #1 Boss. “If you’re going to be in Melbournefor a while, look for a new job. But you didn’t hear that from me.”

“What about you?” I asked. She had, after all, been stuck at this place for over two months.

A sneaky smile spread across her face. “I have a plan.”

The night trudged on, and I washed, scrubbed, wiped, scoured and polished nearly every surface imaginable. Eventually, Bashir told me I could head home. “You come tomorrow morning, 11 o’clock.” But tomorrow was Saturday. And Saturday morning was the one day he’d agreed to let me take off for race training when he hired me.

When I reminded him of this, he mumbled angrily, “Well, you are no good to work in this restaurant then, are you?”

“Pardon?” I asked, hoping I’d heard wrong. He smiled maniacally. “Nothing. You come in tomorrow night. Same time.”

I thanked him and left, feeling uneasy but still employed.