Keith Richards #1

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The restaurant was full of people. Waiters running around, little kids arguing, screaming, and chefs freaking out. It was a busy workplace without room for messing around.

I was a chef, and my partner was Keith Richards. I had a huge crush on him, so I always tried to do my job well to impress him, and not make a fool of myself whenever he's around. But most of the time he would slack off and not do his job, so I had to do it all by myself instead. I didn't really mind much since I wanted to impress him, but he never said thank you or anything like that, which kind of pisses me off a bit. 

My co-workers were; Mick Jagger the chef, Ronnie Wood and Brian Jones the waiters, busboys Mick Taylor and Bill Wyman, and Charlie the manager. 

Chef Mick never really does his job properly, and he's always getting in trouble with Charlie. He never learns though. All Mick cares about is girls, girls, and more girls.

I was sitting on a stool just doing my job casually. I was wearing a white outfit along with a tall white hat. I usually never opened my mouth because I didn't really like anyone looking at my braces. I wouldn't mind them if Mick wouldn't make fun of me for them all the time. He'd always call me nicknames like "Shredder Mouth", "Grater Teeth", or "Zipper Mouth". Sometimes I threaten to report him to Charlie, but he never believes me and continues the teasing. 

I chopped my vegetables as Keith spinkled seasoning on top of some pasta. Brian comes in and yells, "Table #13 has requested that their tacos maintain extra cheese. So make sure to put a lot of cheese! Don't forget the cheese!" 

"We heard you, Brian," Mick says and I roll my eyes. 

Keith began to felt tired, so he wrapped up his pasta and handed it to Brian. "Hey, listen Y/N. I'm gonna go and take a cigarette break. Do you think you can shred the cheese for me? Ok good. I'll pay you later!" he said without giving me the chance to answer. I was a bit annoyed, but I decided to go look for the grater and help him out. 

I began to search in all the drawers, but I couldn't find it. My patience was shredding thin because I recall having seen it about a while ago. I didn't want to ask Mick, but it was my only option at that point. 

"Hey, Mick! Where is the grater?" I asked.

"It's in your mouth!" he said and began to laugh like a hyena. Of course he used this as an opportunity to make fun of my braces. 

"Asshole," I said as I punched his arm and went into Charlie's office.

"What?" he said without looking up.

"Do you know where the grater is? Mick won't tell me where it is. He's being an asshole like always."

"I have one right here. And just ignore Mick. He's only doing it for attention," Charlie says as he opens the drawer of his desk. I began to ask myself why he even has a grater in his desk, but I decided to shrug it off. He probably has his reasons.

I went back into the kitchen, and began to shred cheese. I was almost done, but I felt exhausted and my arm hurt, so I took a short 5 minute bathroom break.

While I was in the restroom, Mick Taylor came in and saw the abandonned shredded cheese in a bowl. "Hey, Mick. Is it ok if I eat some of this cheese? I'm pretty hungry right now?"

"Huh? Oh yea, go ahead and take it," Mick Jagger said as he cooked meat, completely forgetting that it was meant for a customer. 

𝑳𝒊𝒗𝒆 𝑾𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝑴𝒆 [ 𝒄𝒍𝒂𝒔𝒔𝒊𝒄 𝒓𝒐𝒄𝒌 𝒊𝒎𝒂𝒈𝒊𝒏𝒆𝒔 ]Where stories live. Discover now