I was asked to work a double on Monday at the restaurant. It would give me a chance to get involved with the food preparation and to see what else goes on at 8.30am.
There was a new dishwasher at the sink. I introduced myself and he told me that his name was Ron. I’d guess that Ron is in his late 40s or early 50s. He has grey hair and a moustache. Ron told me that he is part Irish, part Native American, part two other things (I can’t remember what) and that he was an American two times over. While I was cutting cheese with the industrial cutter, Ron walked by, we had a brief conversation that went like this:
Me: Hi Ron, so how are you getting on?
Ron: Ugh! (Looks blankly at me)
Me: I said how are you getting on? (I turn off the industrial cutter.)
Ron: What. What did you say, how am I getting off?
Me: NO! How are you GETTING ON? Are you settling in okay?
Ron: Oh! Okay so, okay yeah okay. You have a funny accent, you British?
I made a mental note to keep my conversations with Ron to a minimum. Ron makes me uneasy.
I finished the daytime shift at two-thirty and went back to the apartment. I came back at five and Ron was gone. Noel told me that he wouldn’t be coming back.