The Rumbling Dishwasher; Leticia P.

WE’RE ON TIME. You know, it’s slightly disappointing when you’ve reached the point where being on time is impressive.

Life gets busy doesn’t it? Which is why we should slow down, and look around us. Trust me, before you know it, it’s all gone, and you’re whisked away into a season you didn’t know was coming.

That’s your philosophical thought for the day.

Now on to the promised story!

Leticia hasn’t even gotten past her first day and things are already up and crazy. Little does she know she’s about to meet the rest of her dishwashing crew and begin the long process of initiation into the Secret Society of Dishwashers (not a real thing, but for the sake of imagination… we’ll go with it.)

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Leticia P.

Installment #3: The Rumbling Dishwasher

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“Get it off, get it off, get it off.” I whispered shakily. My leg was tingling and I was clinging in fear to Nicole, who had suddenly appeared beside me. 

The thing crawled higher, at my knee now. 

I lost all dignity when one of its tiny claws seeped through my jeans. I screamed. Then blacked out. I’ve never been so ashamed of myself. 

I woke up seconds later, the voices around me had faded. Nicole stood over me. “Are you okay?”

“Is it gone?”

“Yes.” 

“I’m good.” I sat up, blinked, and then got to my feet. I was soaked.

She laughed and shook my hand. “We’ve never had to deal with anything like that before.”

No kidding. I smiled back, wondering if the hand shake meant I’d been bestowed with an honor. First to faint their beginning day probably.

“Anyway, if you’re alright I think we should begin.” 

“I’m alright,” I assured her, even as water dripped from my clothes. I didn’t look down. I didn’t want to see the muck I’d landed in. 

She began by introducing me to my fellow dishwashers. 

I once again considered quitting as I shook hands with three towering boys. One of them even had a scar.  

A scar. 

Right down his eye like he was a villain from a movie. 

I briefly wondered if he was old enough to be a battle-hardened warrior. Maybe he once had plans for world domination. Maybe-

“This is Leticia.” 

I cleared my throat. 

“Nice to meet you.” Simon, the blonde, informed me. 

“Nice scream.” The boy with the scar, Simion, (Not Simon, but Simion, yes, someone thought it was a good idea to have them working together, as if names weren’t hard enough already.) informed me. 

“Thanks.” I tried to find something to look at. The floor was pretty nice but then I remembered I’d just been soaking up the run-off from the pipes, so I looked back up. 

“The schedule’s in the laundry room, and so are the aprons and hair nets, anything else you need would be in the locker room. I’m going to have the boys show you around… Start her at the Gunk Station, Simion.” 

“The what?” 

Asher, the shortest of the bunch (still taller than me by a long shot),  snickered at my expression. 

“The Gunk Station.” Nicole was serious. 

Quit, quit now before you get sucked into it. 

Simion nodded his head. “This way, um, what was it?”

My courage deserted me. “Leticia.” I mumbled. 

Simion gestured for me to go first. 

I didn’t know where he wanted me to go so I just walked slowly while he said something to Nicole and caught up with me. 

I snuck a glance at him, bringing every ounce of Sherlock Holmes into my brain as I could muster. Several seconds and detective deductions later, I concluded he definitely looked like a battle-hardened warrior turned scarred villain with plans for world domination.

“This is what we call the Gunk Station.”

I banished the thoughts, not wanting him to know I caught onto his plans.

Simion patted a large metal counter bolted to the floor in front of the dishwasher. It had several sinks filled with water, and was surrounded by a gajillion carts. 

He continued. “We take these carts,” he pulled one up to the sink. Buckets rested on it, chock full with dirty dishes. He took a spatula in one hand and a plate in another. “And we scrape the dish clean into the first sink.” He pushed a mound of uneaten mashed potatoes into one sink. “Then we submerge it into the second one.” He demonstrated. “And stack them.” He set it on an impressive pile, pushing the stack forward as Asher reached for it. “Then they’ll put it through the dishwasher.” 

I blinked.

Asher hefted the stack from the counter and began to stick the plates into the running racks of the dishwasher. The instant the first few plates disappeared into the mouth of the cavernous machine a loud rumbling burst through the entire kitchen. 

I winced as the sound pierced my ears. 

“It gets pretty loud.” Simion yelled. “But once the dishes are out it stops making that noise.” 

I winced again as Asher kept feeding plates to the metal monster. 

“You try.” Simion lifted a bucket onto the counter and handed me his spatula. 

At this point in time I’d completely forgotten what he’d wanted me to do and nearly put a plate into the sink full of water before I’d scraped it. 

He stopped me and showed me again. 

I couldn’t even hear myself think, sure Asher was being distracting on purpose. Every time he turned around for a new stack of dishes he’d smirk at Simion.

Simion wasn’t paying attention, too busy trying to insure I didn’t break anything. I’d have told him everything was fine, I wouldn’t be braking any dishes (not after fainting my first day), but considering the fact my voice had never been loud in and of itself I was skeptical he’d hear me.

Nicole walked into the kitchen and yelled something at Asher.

He dove for a red button on the top of the machine and smacked it hard.

My ears rang as the sounds instantly silenced.

Quite disgruntled from the noise, Nicole rubbed her forehead. “Remember what I said about new recruits, Asher.”

He stared at her blankly for a moment. Then a light clicked on in his expression. “Oh! No running the dishwasher while they’re trying to learn?” he frowned. 

Nicole sighed. “Exactly.”

“Right.” He gave her a sheepish smile. 

She sighed again (more mother-like this time), nodded to Simion, smiled at me, and left. 

“Okay.” Simion cleared his throat, looking back down at my hands (which held an empty coffee mug and the infamous spatula). “Let’s try that again.”

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Well folks, I hope you enjoyed the third installment. This story is so much fun to write, I don’t know why. XD Room for my imagination to run wild within the confines of mundane concepts, I guess. Anywho, thanks so much for reading! If, for some reason, you just happened across our blog and don’t want to go searching for this link every time you want to read something, then go ahead and subscribe via email and you’ll get these stories straight sent straight to your inbox (brought by our lovely carrier dragons of course).

Have a marvelous day!

~I wish you the best,

Louise