He grumbled to himself as he rushed the tickets to the cooks while the waitresses attempted to catch up, communicate with the cooks, watch their tables, please their customers, and ensure they weren't forgetting anything. But this was their job, not his. Just because women could multitask while running about like headless chickens didn't mean he wanted any part of it. There was a reason he was just the host. He didn't want the added responsibility and stress. Largely because he disliked dealing with people in the customer service setting that was fast-food and the dining experience. People were cheap, ungrateful snobs, even if you all lived in the same town and knew who tipped and who didn't. You would think living amongst each other would make people feel guilty being cheap, or picky. Alas, this was not the case. He slammed the ticket on the stick a little too hard, shaking the counter. He cursed under his breath, gave a frustrated but semi-apologetic look to the waitress who'd been counting her tips right next to him and scurried back to the front. He slipped into his podium just in time to greet the latest guests.

"Good afternoon, welcome to Dixie's, greatest burger join in the next 200 miles!" This was not the official greeting, but it always got a laugh, and allowed him to vent steam by flirting a tad with sarcasm. He lead the older couple to the nearest booth, supplied their menus and ensured them that their waitress would be with them as soon as she could. As he turned to leave, the woman grabbed his shoulder and pulled him down to hear face. "COULD YOU PLEASE TURN THE MUSIC DOWN? IT'S A BIT LOUD DON'T YOU THINK?" After he recovered from wincing as she yelled into his ear, he nodded and hurried off before punching his elder in the face. He tapped the manager's shoulder.

"I don't know why they came here if they hate noise and loud music, but the elderly couple would like us to turn the music down." The manager rolled her eyes and nodded. He rushed back to the front. Damn they were busy today. He stopped to catch his breath and organize his thoughts as another guest walked in. Just then the phone rang. He grunted and turned to answer.

"Every day's a great day at Dixie's! How may I help you?" He resisted the urge to smash the phone against the counter and run screaming out the front door. He finished scrambling the order down and turned apologetically to the newest guest.

"Hi. I'm sorry. As you can see, we're really busy tonight."