peter the OP waiter
peter pushed his curly brown locks out of his eyes as he mentally steeled himself.
right, pete, don't fuck this up.
he gripped his bag and pushed through the metal doors round the back of the restaurant. people were rushing all about, clearly it was a busy night.
"watch it, mate!" an annoyed voice called out, and peter backed up against the wall as a black-haired guy with heavily tattooed arms wheeled a large cart past, stacked with tottering piles of dirty dishes.
"you the new kid?"
peter looked down the hall to see a tanned smart-looking man with gelled hair leaning casually against the doorframe, ignoring the bustle of various waiters and chefs milling around him.
"yes sir!" peter said earnestly, jogging up to him.
"you not changed yet?" he asked, his voice silky and a bit intimidating with a strong italian accent.
peter glanced down at his stained, ripped jeans and camo tee. "oh, no. sorry, was I meant to-"
"it's cool, it's cool." the man said, waving a hand airily. "some of our people get changed here. come on"
and on that note, the danny zuko lookalike turned swiftly and marched off down the hall, leaving peter to hurriedly scramble after him.
thank god for his superhearing, he wouldn't have heard the man explain where everything was over all the racket around them.
"this" he said, gesturing to a small cubicle next to a vending machine at the end of the hall "is where you can change."
peter thanked him, hoisting his bag off his shoulders. the man nodded and made to walk off, but stopped.
"oh, right. sorry kid, the name's mark, but everyone calls me paprika, so you might as well"
peter chuckled, and was relieved to see paprika smile, showing straight white teeth.
"so, get settled in, don't be worried if you drop a plate or two on your first day. but as soon as my shift is over, you are gonna have to deal with my slightly pissy other half, carlos. he may not be so forgiving"
the teenager nodded, smiling. this guy was much nicer than he'd expected a manager of a fancy nyc restaurant to be
"now" paprika said, pointing at the cubicle. "change."
peter nodded again, and walked down to the cramped little room.
he quickly stripped once inside, tugging on his crisp white shirt and smart black trousers.
he'd been very lucky to snag this job, as it was good pay, and the shift only fell upon the same time as his usual patrol time once in a week.
granted he didn't have any actual qualifications, it was a surprise that the owner of the restaurant had taken him on.
maria, a smart young woman with catlike features and frizzy hair had liked his 'energy', and due to the fact peter was clearly extremely intelligent and also a quick learner, she'd thought they'd be useful qualities as a waiter.
peter looked at the small mirror on the inside of the cabinet, unwrapping the small plastic bag containing a sleek black tie.
he deftly unfolded the material, and made quick work of looping the ends and forming a bow tie, suppressing the wave of emotional nostalgia as he remembered how aunt may had taught him on the night of a school dance.
right. show time, peter thought, desperately trying to make himself look presentable in front of the mirror. he raked his hands through the brown curls on his head before shoving his casual clothes into his rucksack and snatching it up.
he stepped out into the hall, and jogged down past rushing waiters to the area where paprika had told him to leave his bag.
ten minutes later, peter was reciting the menu options in his head as he ferried trays laden with various nice-smelling foods that costed more than his entire wardrobe over to golden tables.
paprika had informed peter as he dumped a bunch of dishes into a frothy sink in the kitchen that the fourth waiter/waitress of his shift hadn't arrived, so he shouldn't feel overwhelmed with the amount of work.
"she's new, too. you guys can learn together" he said with a relaxed grin, and peter thought how cool it was that he was so easygoing despite having an extremely busy job.
currently he was memorising the dairy-free desserts on the menu. what even was a dairy-substitute chocolate-cherry torte with a swirl of hazelnut sauce, and why was it deemed fit for human consumption?
"table 21. and clear table 23 while you're at it" the chef with a moustache barked, sliding the next few plates across the metal partition.
peter nodded and walked swiftly across the large room. it was impressive. lots of big round tables with golden tablecloths, candles, even silver gilded cutlery.
your attention was drawn to the delicate chandelier dangling in the middle of the room, with its slender shards that gleamed brightly.
peter slapped on his friendly grin as he set down the dishes carefully on the table, and the people ooohed in appreciation.
even though he'd had a rough week trying to find employment, and he was more hungry than ever considering he was forced to inhale the sweet, spicy smells of posh food wafting into his nose every second, peter found it was easy to smile.
he'd got this awesome job, and he wasn't half bad at it too.
he was way faster than the other waiters, and it was child's play to stack up more and more dishes on each arm, watching amusedly as the fellow people on his shift tried to balance their dishes too, only to gawk when peter swiftly caught their falling plates as well.
"five serviettes, please" a woman with earrings bigger than peter's self esteem asked politely, and he nodded, grinning.
he went and snatched a couple for her from a nearby trolley (serviette, he had learned, meant napkin).
peter straightened his tie and made his way back to the kitchen ; an old man had rudely grabbed his elbow as he passed and told him to ask if there was any peanuts in the mushroom stew.
why the fuck would there be peanuts in a mushroom stew, peter thought as he pushed open the metal door.
"-fine, she's very busy a lot of the time."
he heard paprika in a heated conversation with the neatly-shaved bad-tempered man called carlos
he was red in the face and clearly frustrated.
"she's 17, how damn busy can she be?" he spat, jaw clenching.
peter quietly went over to the bunch of chefs that were hurriedly chopping clusters of various herbs and meats in the corner and whispered the question about the stew.
he did the superhearing equivalent of 'tuning in', and heard paprika say "listen, il compagno (buddy), she's got some seriously high clearance, do you think maria would take on a slacker? let it go, my friend"
peter walked back over to the double doors, but heard paprika exclaim "ah, parker!"
peter turned, and saw carlos striding off down the hall.
"your shiftmate, willow, hasn't shown up this time, but i promise you it will be much easier tommorow with marika" paprika said apologetically, and peter smiled.
"it's no trouble at all! thank you for telling me" he said brightly, and the italian clapped him on the shoulder.
the man had explained to peter about his shifts, how he mostly had to work with willow as a shiftmate, but with marika on wednesdays.
peter really, really hoped they were nice.
"you are a promising worker, parker. very natural manners and a nice way about you, considering the amount of tips you have acquired" he said, smirking and looking down at peter's bulging pocket.
"hurry along and put them in your bag, don't want any money falling out, eh?" he drawled, winking.
peter nodded earnestly and jogged down the halls to where his bag was.
this day was going amazing, he thought giddily as he fumbled around with his rucksack. best one he'd had in... a long time.
the amount of money he'd earned in just the first three hours of his shift was more than he'd earned in a week.
two hours left, and then maybe he could celebrate his new job with a pizza?
oh fuck, i'd murder the president with an ice cube for pizza, he thought.
peter hurried back, his stomach rumbling loudly at the idea of actual takeaway food!
"you, boy! take this to francis in the kitchens!" someone yelled behind him, and peter turned as the guy with tattoos shoved a box into his arms.
despite the occasional snobby arsehole, the majority of the people in the restaurant were polite and respected him. respect was something peter parker rarely experienced. respect was something spiderman was used to.
peter parker spent the rest of his shift with a giddy, cheerful feeling inside.