This is our First Line and photoprompt this week (Thanks Dylan)
Dinah worked whatever job paid the rent, careers were reserved for kids from the suburbs.
She had never regretted it though. Few could say they had literally worked their way up from waiting tables to being waited on at tables and being paid for it.
No-one recognised her as the skinny waitress from so many years ago.
Much as she had enjoyed those days, she got a different kick out of her job now.
Her role was to visit various diners in The Chain and report on their standards of cleanliness, staff and attitude, and of course the quality of the food served.
None knew when she would be coming. Most never actually noticed, as she didn’t draw attention to herself. She did engage in conversation though, sympathising with the waiting staff run ragged, recognising the banter with regulars and the compassion with some down on their luck.
This establishment was her favourite.
The burgers were big and juicy, cooked to perfection, served in a soft fresh bun, topped with onions, tomatoes, cheese and relish as specifically ordered, the fries piping hot.
The table linens were spotless, the condiment bottles free of sticky dribbles and globs of matted residue. The cutlery shone, not a trace of a water mark, and the crockery holding her black coffee stain-free.
The waiter came across and smiled, knowing this was where she’d started.
‘Hi Nick,’ she said.
‘Hi Mum. Everything OK?’
‘As always, Son, as always.’