Page 119 of My Boss

“You really like watches, huh?”

“If it weren’t for them, humans would still measure time using the sun’s travel across the celestial vault, and that was far too imprecise a measurement.”

“And you value precision and punctuality.”

“That’s right.”

I smile at him, look into his eyes, and realize that I like these quirks of his more and more. Jan has an unusual personality, and this sparks greater curiosity in me and makes me want to get to know him even better.

“The highlander’s potato pancake for the lady, and crêpes for you.” The waitress appears with a tray at our table. She puts down the dishes and the drinks. The highlander’s pancake looks so appetizing that my salivary glands drool.

“I requested the crêpes and jam to be separate. Please take it away.” I hear Jan’s firm voice and look at him. He has a grimace on his face as if someone had shat on his plate. Meanwhile, the plate has two fragrant crêpes folded in half, with a spoonful of jam next to them.

“But they are separate.” The woman is as surprised as I am.

“They aren’t. The crêpe comes in contact with the jam. I explicitly asked for jam in a bowl to avoid such a situation.If you can’t remember such a trivial order, you are clearly not intelligent and not competent enough to work as a waitress. I suggest you seek employment in a less demanding profession.”

The girl looks at him shocked. I know perfectly well what she’s thinking about Jan right now. A madman and a boor on top of that. And all in all, it’s hardly surprising, since the jam meets the pancake along a length of maybe two inches, and the customer not only wants to replace the whole dish because of this, but also tells her to change her job. He went too far.

Without a second thought, I reach for Jan’s plate, scrape the jam into my cup, peel off the ‘soiled’ part of the crêpe, which I eat, then wipe the red streaks from the plate clean with a napkin and hand it back to Jan.

“If we need anything else, we’ll call you,” I say to the waitress and get down to my own dish.

The dumbfounded woman walks away from our table without a word.

“Why did you do that?” Jan’s voice tone is cold.

“What exactly?” I’m cutting my potato pancake.

“Everything. Certain rules apply. The dish was not served as I asked. They should replace it and serve a new one.”

“And also, by the way, they would spit in your jam, and smear all over the crêpes with a finger inserted in the butt first.”

“I don’t understand.”

“What don’t you understand, Jan? That you clung to those crêpes as if your life depended on them? Or that you insulted the waitress?”

“I didn’t insult her, I just told her the truth. I asked for jam in a bowl, and she didn’t remember that. Did I really ask that much of her?”

“No, but it happens. Maybe she’s having a bad day or has some family issues on her mind, or maybe she really is stupid. Whatever. I figured it would be quicker, more efficient, and lessrisky to remove the jam myself, rather than wait for the meal to be prepared again. Now it’s just the way you wanted it. You have jam separately in a cup and clean crêpes separately. Eat, they are really good.” I return to my dish.

Jan doesn’t say anything. He digests my words. He looks at his plate, murmurs something under his breath, shifts his gaze to the jam and murmurs again. Finally, he reaches for a paper napkin, spreads it neatly on his lap, picks up his cutlery and begins to eat the crêpes.

“So, are they good?” I ask, sending him a cocky smile while he swallows the first bite.

“Acceptable.”

“My highlander’s pancake is delicious. Would you like to try it?”

“No.”

“Just a little bit. You lose nothing, you can only gain.” I scrape the sauce off the piece, scoop it onto a fork and slip it to Jan almost right under his nose.

He sniffs the food like a child who is told to eat liver with fried onions. God, I’m about to lose it. I can hardly restrain myself not to burst out laughing.

“This is just the potato pancake. I got rid of the sauce.”

He peruses it carefully.

---