Best Seat in the House

There was a leather couch set up in the corner of the Wine Bar. It was meant to be a symbol of relaxation and luxury. Big spenders would sit on that couch and drink artisan cocktails and celebrate whatever was going on in their lives, a special night out, a special night on the couch. I had been the sous chef for about a year and was in my usual place at the bar with owner and Executive Chef drinking sazeracs at two in the morning with two of the usual barflies surrounding us like bookends. On my left was the military doctor that had to perform two eye surgeries in the morning, on the Chef's right was a professor that had been kicked out of the Wine Bar a week ago for getting a little unruly.

"The best lunch cook I ever had." said the owner. "Was a coke addict that worked for almost nothing." He bought a round of whiskey shots for the group and continued his story. "The sous chef at the time was a real piece of shit too." he laughed. "But, I got a lot of laughs out of him." he pointed to leather couch in the corner. "There was this girl that worked in the kitchen, she was a part time cook I think. Anyway, she wanted to take the night off and sous chef and lunch cook convinced her that the only way they could let her take off, was if she blew them both on that couch. I used to watch the security film of them, she'd go back and forth on them. They were both naked on that couch and she'd just go back and forth, up and down, it was like the perpetual motion bird toy you'd get as a gag gift. It was some funny shit."

The leather couch is still there, for special night out.