"The most important thing..." he's telling us "is to breathe..."
He's sitting on a chair by the front door, he's just gotten in and he's regaling us with his opinions. Most of them, like with the nephew, I've heard before, but once in a while he comes up with something new.
M is drunk. It was a condition of his rehire that he not be drinking, but he got the lunch off (slow) and when he returned at 4:30 was just a little more opinionated than usual.
The evening, slow at the beginning of the day, is steadily picking up. More and more reservations, walk-ins, it's a busy night.
And G tells me "He's fucking hammered, haven't you noticed...?"
Really, given how often everyone there is either hammered or stoned I hadn't, and if he did his job I wouldn't care, but he's leaning upon a chair talking to a table, his voice, intonation, he's got an exaggerated manner now that I notice...I wonder if the table knows he's drunk, cares? Or is it simply another little charming quirk in their favorite Italian restaurant?
"And I said to him....and he said to me...."
He's famous, he's worked everywhere in the city, and before the shift was in a tirade about all the shitty places he's worked, now he's amusing the tables with anecdotes of his travels and friends, there's a line up at the door, food to be run, people waiting to be sat, tables to be cleared, offered dessert, more drinks, but M is off in the midst of his story and all these things can wait...
I wouldn't care, but we're busy, counting on all hands being somewhat vaguely productive, if the owner notices he's done and I don't want the owner to notice, this job, it's like the monkey's paw, there's no giving it away when anyone understand the strings attached, and so we'll all keep quiet and hope nobody says anything.