8
I sleep on it for the night.
When I wake up, I'm still of the same opinion.
It's not safe for me, or the rest of the Gastronomy staff. Not even the customers.
Now the word's out about where I work, Gaz and Daz'll be just the appetiser.
So I head into work as usual. Only I'm not there long.
"I can't work here anymore, Mr Dubois."
Dubois looks up from sampling a pan of soup he's working on. He pulls his face. "Too much salt," he says to himself.
"Mr Dubois?"
He tastes the soup again. "Your trial's up tomorrow," he says. "I was going to fire you anyway."
"Oh," I say, disappointed. It would have been nice to get the job, even if I can't accept it. "You want me to work the rest of the day?"
"No," Dubois says, his tongue as sharp as his lemon tart. "I've lined up someone else."
I l
