Fred's tale ...

One of my first cooking jobs was at a place called Coachlight Inn. It was an amazing place to cook at because the cooks worked right out in the resturaunt. There were tables in front of and in back of the cooks staion. The cooks staion had a huge Broiler, a nice size saute station, a Microwave and then Refrigerators under the workstation. There was a shelf that ran the length of the sation that the plates were placed on as they were ready to go and the food was plated. At each end of the sation were holders for the plates with springs below them that clean plates were stacked on. It was a great setup and who ever thought it out did their home work cause it worked great.

One advantage to this setup was seeing how the customers were progressing through their salad so you had a good idea of when to plate their food, if it was ready. But also, if you ever dropped a steak (It does happen), you were busted big time, so you didn't drop any steaks.

One night, the busboys were placing about 4 tables together right behind the workstaion in the middle of the resturaunt. This would happen every now and then, but not very often. At about 7:30, this one guy came in and set down at one end of the table. He looked, well, very plain. He had thick glasees, a pale complexion and a ratty looking suit on with a thin black tie and a white shirt. Just plain as all get out. I'll call him Fred. Maybe 1/2 hour later a few more people showed up, but they didn't sit next to Fred. In fact they sat in the middle of this long table. Ok, nothing wrong with that. Now as soon as they showed up, these people started ordering Drinks like crazy. Fred was drinking Ice tea, alone. He smiled at the people and a few of them actually spoke in his direction every now and then. More people slowly showed up and the table finally filled up, with probably 25 people or so at this long table.

Salads were served and the food order was finally brought to us. The owner of the resturaunt probably loved this bunch, for they pretty much had the cream of the crop off the rather expensive menu. Lots of Brooiled lobster with steak and prime rib combinations. Shrimp Scampi aplenty. Even a nice round of appetizers before hand.

What was a bit odd about that night was that the rest of the Dinning was rather slow. So it was easy to kind of keep trrack of what transpired at this long table. Also, I have long enjoyed seeing people and trying to figure out their relationship was with one another. Most of these people were dresed very nice. I was told that a few of them had showed up in a Limo. Much talking and drinking went on. As the liquoir flowed they became louder and laughter ensued.

Except for Fred. He basically sat there at the end of the table and smiled. He seemed to enjoy what was happening at the table, but he really wasn't part of the table. He sat there quietly and drank his Ice tea. He didn't partake in the salads or the Appetizers. His hands were interlaced as he sat there quietly. He finaly got his meal, a Hambuger Loaf, the cheapest thing on the Menu.

They finally quit eating and the plates were cleared and then a cake was brought out. It had apperently been Fred's last days at his jobs and his coworkers were throwing him a going away party. Many of the people left right after the song had finished for Fred. Here he sat with this huge cake in front of him and only one person stayed long enough to eat a piece of cake. It was sort of sad.

Then the Lady finished her cake and actually came down to Fred and shook his hand and sad Good bye to him and few other things. It dawned on me that she was the only one. No one else hardly even looked his way as they left. Then the really odd thing happened.

The waitress walked over to Fred and presented him with the check He reached for his wallet and paid cash. Then the waitress boxed up the cake and gave it to Fred and he left our building.

Fred had paid for everything these people ate and drank. Everything. I didn't find out what the bill was but it was sizable. He paid to have his own going away party. Amazing.