Your Order’s Ready
(A Food Garden Court Story)
by Jeff Baker
T’amec was getting used to the new system at Food Garden Court even if the customers were a little leery. The company was phasing out the intercoms they used in the mall to tell customers their order was ready by calling out the number on their ticket. No more “Take a Number,” they just handed the customer the little plastic disc, about the size of a coaster.
Skid was not that sure, but he knew that some of the things they had as customers customers probably ate their receipts.
The intercom had worked fairly well and it had been fun sometimes, but they never knew what they would get when they called out “Order Number Six-Six-Six, your order’s ready.”
The new idea had come from Corporate.
Pagers.
The small discs were supposed to indicate to customers when their order was ready. Vibrate or beep.
The discs all bore the slogan: HELPING CUSTOMERS SINCE 64 B.C.
“What do we do?” T’amec asked. “Rub a lamp?”
Actually, they just hit the order number on the screen at the register.
“This is assuming we have that many customers,” one of the other employees said. It was the slow time of year, even on the weekend. The customers would typically stay by the counter and shoot the breeze with whoever was making their order.
It was on that weekend that things got interesting. Mr. Sprague was insisting that they really had to start using the new pagers.
First order up; cup of broth and the small meat roll. T’amec took the order, handed the customer his pager and told her “That’ll go off when your order’s ready.”
T’amec realized that made it sound like an explosive.
As it turned out, he was not too far off.
Broth and meat roll were up and T’amec touched the symbol on the screen.
At the customer’s table a few feet away, the little plastic disc lit up with an accompanying sizzle. In another instant, there was a burst of light and a tall man with greenish skin suddenly appeared standing by the customer’s table.
He was wearing golden earrings, a reddish tunic and a bright yellow loincloth which draped down to his sandalled feet. He was bald-headed with a mustache and a pointed goatee. He clapped his hands in front of him and bowed from the waist.
“Oh Mighty and Noble One! By the Powers I Serve, your Repast is Prepared and Awaits your Pleasure!”
The customer had edged as far away as she could while still staying on her seat and was staring aghast at the apparition.
“Uhhh yeah,” she managed to say. “Thanks.”
The tall green man bowed again as the customer slipped out of her seat and crept to the counter, keeping her eyes on the green man. As she picked up her tray, the djinn (for it could be nothing else!) bowed again and vanished in a puff of purple smoke.
Skid and T’amec just stood behind the counter staring.
“Okay,” T’amec said. “How bad could this possibly get?”
After the next few customer encounters with various djinn, (One customer ran off in terror!) Skid made a note to talk to Mr. Sprague and tell him this might not be a good idea.
The lunch rush was in full swing and things were okay for a bit. Then two of the pagers went off at one of the larger tables at the same time. Two near identical djinn appeared on either side of the table and were midway through their speil when they noticed each other.
“You!” Yelled the first djinn, pointing at the other. “Contemptable dog you dare show your face here!”
“Spawn of pigs!” Shouted the other djinn. “I shall teach thee respect!”
Skid and T’amec gawked as the two near-identical djinn shouted at each other.
The first djinn dove at the other, slamming down on the table, his hands clutching at the other djinn as the customers at the table scattered.
“Should we call security?” Skid asked.
“No!” T’amec shouted. “Help me turn those things off!” T’amec was frantically poking icons on the screen, to no avail. The djinn remained where they were.
Skid was staring as the two wrestled on the floor, sparks and smoke popping off of them as they rolled on the floor clutching and grappling with the other.
T’amec gave up on the touch screen and joined Skid in watching the fight.
“Y’know, we ought to have the number to the Augury Shop by the phone.” T’amec said.
“Yeah,” Skid said.
As the two djinn rolled on the floor they seemed to be swelling and growing. Smoke and flashing lights poured out of the ground where they were. Trays rose from the nearby tables and began to swirl around in the air. The pagers left on the tables were flashing and beeping.
Skid and T’amec ducked as trays soared over the counter, crashing into the wall. They poked their heads back up in time to see the two djinn vanish in a burst of black smoke and green flame.
The flying trays dropped to the floor. One that was hovering over the counter dropped into a vat of broth splattering it all over Skid.
The pagers stopped flashing and were smouldering with green smoke.
“I guess they didn’t get along,” T’amec said.
“Yeah,” Skid said, wiping the broth off his face and licking it off his fingers. “Glad I was wearing my apron.”
—end—
