"Hmmm" sighed the stallion. His name was Horte Cuisine, a snobbish-looking earth pony noticeable to many due to his shaded, slick blue mane, cream-colored and very thin mustache adorned atop his lip. On his flank was his cutie mark, his proud marking consisting of a raised dish and cloche.
The stallion looked down to the glassware he was now cleaning, one hoof holding the glass and the other wiping it with the cloth it was holding. It was easy to see that he was not in the best of moods, apparent to many due to the lack of actual cleaning he was doing to the glass, and instead just moving the cloth around the absinthe glass.
He was annoyed. Not too long ago, he was overjoyed, as he received a letter of approval the other day saying that he was accepted to work at The Saffron and Spices, one of the most fancy and deluxe restaurants in Canterlot. As one would expect, he got to Canterlot as fast as he could, but not before quitting from his original job at a cafe in Ponyville, a work he despised due to his belief that his talents were wasted in a little-known village, rather than work in a highly reserved eatery such as this restaurant .
Sadly to him, his dreams were nearly shattered when he got their and found out that he had to work behind the bar, a career he always considered 'degrading' as it involved serving out alcohol to drunken guests, as opposed to serving out fine and elegant nourishment to polite and well-mannered customers. It was times like this that made him angry at loopholes in his own curriculum vitae. Betrayed by his own resume.
In other words, he forgot to read the small print.
Oh, how demeaning Horte Cuisine thought deeply as he stared into the glassware If only they would have said that I was to become a bartender before hoof. Then I could have stayed being a waiter. A small town cafe it may have been, but at least I was still a garcon there. He thought in sadness.
Luckily for him, though, today had been a slow day for the restaurant, as there was only a few customer aligned around the multiple tables and booths, and only a few patrons had ordered drinks off the bar.
Oh well, at least today was slow going. And no predicaments have ensued. Thank Celestia for that. The stallion thought, trying to cheer himself up.
"Out of ze way! Photo Finish is coming through!" Ordered out a loud, commanding voice originated from the entrance of the restaurant.
Or, maybe not.
As Horte Cuisine looked up from the glassware, he instantly recognized the source of the call. It was Photo Finish, the famous fashion photographer and editor-in-chief of the Mare-gue magazine! As one might expect, Horte Cuisine was surprised, especially seeing as it had been a slow day. He watched (with envy) as a waitress, a unicorn to be exact, showed the famous photographer, and her staff of workers, to their seats in a booth.
Looking around cautiously, Horte perked his ear out to try to listen curiously to the conversation Photo Finish was having with the waitress as she sat down. Again, luckily today was a slow day, so he was able to make out the colloquy between the waitress and the photographer.
"Good evening ma'am." Horte Cuisine heard the waitress begin to say. "Would you like to take a look at out fine selection of wines-"
"No!" He heard Photo Finish interrupted her coldly. "I would take a bottle ov Chareblue Gatuuo Colt-du-Rhone wine! And nothing more!" She said as she pointed to the attendant.
"Oh yes! And some glasses ov red rose wine vor my crew! Chop chop, you go now!" She ordered to the unfortunate attendant, who did just so. The stallion watched as the waitress backed away from Photo Finish, head held low in respect. That was, until, the waitress, was sure she was out of eye-shot of the photographer, and immediately dashed out and into a employee's-only door. This seemed to gain the curiosity of Horte Cuisine.
For a few long moments Horte Cuisine seemed to pay all of his attention on the photographer, completely forgetting he was supposed to be working behind the bar (even though he hadn't moved from behind the bar itself. Because he can't.) and listened to the conversation between the paparazzo and her colleagues.
"No! I am telling you she iz not ready to be va supermodel yet! Her flank is too broad and bulky!" It was easy to recognize Photo Finish's Germaney accent from a mile away. "And anywayz, her cheeks are too blubbery!" It wasn't long before Horte Cuisine saw the waitress had returned with two bottles of wine and a number of glasses carried on tray, being lifted gracefully off the ground with her magic. Horte Cuisine wasn't entirely sure, but he was certain that the mare was quavering.
"You wine madam." The mare announced, in an oddly capricious tone, to the photographer, settling down the bottles and glasses along the table.
"Good. Now go! Go!" She shooed off the waitress coldly, who did so without hesitation. As Horte Cuisine managed to take her eyes of her, he actually was aghast at how empty the restaurant seemed to be. There was barely any other patrons left in the eatery, and those that stayed looked very nervous for some reason. The stallion was amazed at how empty the place was, even more-so with the appearance of a V.I.P. in the restaurant.
"Where did everypony go!" Horte Cuisine said in shock as he stared at the nearly empty restaurant, not even noticing that a mare had sat down on the stool over the bar, looking annoyed for whatever reason.
"Excuse me." The mare said, obtaining the attention of the bartender.
"What? Oh, sorry ma'am." Horte Cuisine apologized to the mare. Looking back at her with the proper etiquette and decency one would expect in such a fine establishment. "May I take you're order?" He asked her in his proud, fanciful, and rather snobbish tone, the kind that gains respect to the up-tight but annoying to the down-loose.
"Cut the formality and give me a strong drink!" The mare said bluntly, and rather plainly, to the bartender.
"My...apologies madam?" Horte Cuisine asked her in uncertainty, taken aback by how brusque the pony was being.
"You heard me. I'd have a cider on the rocks, and make it a stiff drink!" She aforementioned to him.
Still in shock, Horte Cuisine served the mare her drink of cider on the rocks, who, when handed the drink to her, literally gulping the drink down in one go, sighing heavily as she slammed the glass cup on the counter when she was finished! Having a second to look at her, he noticed she was a earth pony, with a pink coat, and a mane they seems to be split down the middle, with a dark pink shade on one side and a purple shade on the other. Her cutie mark was covered up by a white saddle-coat.
"Pardon me for meddling in your own affairs, but I had noticed you seemed to be so...direct all of a sudden?" He asked her curiously. "I had expected that one of Photo Finish's to have a more...complaisant demeanor."
Sighing again, the mare looked him dead in the eyes and said, "How would you feel if you had taken a job you soon regretted? You should count yourself lucky, at least you're happy, working in a place you'd want to work all your life. You don't know how I feel. Hit me again!" She finished, gesturing him for another drink as she held out the empty glass.
"You know, she may be a expert with a with a camera, but her social skills are....how would you say..." She trailed off, waiting for both him to answer and for him to refill her drink.
"Lacking." Horte Cuisine answered as he handed back her refilled drink.
"Non-existent." She corrected unemotionally to him, taking another swig of the drink as soon as she had it. Looking back at him, she continued. "I am being serious. She's like a slave driver."
"Surely that cannot be true, madam?" He asked in disbelief.
"You can quit with the 'madam' stuff. The name is High Style." She said in irritation. "To be honest, I truly hate with this whole fancy and lavish habit."
"Then why, if I may ask, do you work with Photo Finish if you hate your job?" He asked her as he eyed the said mare, who was now arguing with the staff about something to do with her main meal.
"I can't seem to find any other work right now. It's really annoying." High Style said bluntly to the bartender. "Right now, I'm just glad to be away from her for a while mister...I'm sorry I didn't catch your name?"
"Horte. Horte Cuisine." The stallion answered her with a strong sense of pride.
"Horte Cuisine? Very well then, can I ask you something?" She said to him.
"You may indeed, Miss High Style."
"Do you like your job right now? Because I don't. And I wish I stayed back home in Canterlot, where I worked with my previous job. It may not have been fancy, but at least I was content."
"If I may inquire, why did you leave your previous job?" Horte inquired to the mare.
"Well come on, how can you pass up an occupation to work with the famous Photo Finish? It's impossible. No pony could do that. The day that happened, I was over Luna's moon, as you would say, I mean being able to work with the one and only Photo Finish; it was like a dream come true. Sadly, it turned out to be a nightmare." She finished somberly. "And do you know what the worst part is; I can't even return to my former job now."
"That's a depressing thought." Horte Cuisine observed.
"And do you know why I hate this job? It's because of her." She gestured backwards in the direction of the photographer and rest of her crew. "She's rude, stubborn, arrogant and uncaring to everypony she meets. Yes, she may be an angel with a camera, but she's like the devil all the other time." She uttered, taking another sip of her cider.
"Hmmm" Horte Cuisine thought deeply.
"What?" High Style asked him.
"I'm sorry Ms Style, but did you previously ask me if I worked at a job I soon regretted?" He asked her quizzically.
"And?"
"I do." He said simply, waiting a moment for High Style to understand what he meant.
"Wait. You're saying that you are, right now, working at a job you hate?" She said in disbelief.
"Indeed I do." Horte Cuisine replied, a small smile suddenly appearing on his lips.
"Then why did you take the job?"
"Same reason as you, I suppose." He responded to her quite vaguely, earning a skeptical glance from the mare. "Just like you, I got offered a job a couldn't refuse. One I had wished for a long time. And just like, I got pretty much screwed." And then he expectantly chuckled. And then she chuckled. And then he chuckled harder. And then they both burst out laughing, not even caring if all of Canterlot hears there bizarre outburst, neither of them considering the odd looks they got from both the staff and customers, with the exception of Photo Finish, who was lost in her own mind.
"You know what's the funniest thing yet?" High Style asked between laughs.
"What is that?" Horte Cuisine replied, his chuckling dying down.
"We are both the same, in our own little ways."
"Indeed." Horte Cuisine said, wiping away a tear.
A few moments of a pregnant silence, High Style decided to speak up. "So tell me, Horte Cuisine, how did a pony as talented as you get to work at a mundane job such as this?"
For the next few minutes, Horte Cuisine explained to the mare about how he originally worked at a cafe in Ponyville, how he sent out a resume to a position in a well-reserved restaurant and, as fate would have it, managed to get accepted in the high-class restaurant, and how he got duped when he found out they the only position that had to be filled was a bartender, as the previous bartender had left shortly before.
After this, the other pony told him about her misfortunate experiences of being mislead into working at a job opening. She told him how she worked as a simple hairdresser, a job she deemed unexciting and mundane, yet calm, until she applied for, and achieved, the positions for the one and only Photo Finish's crew as her personal hair-stylist, but found out the job was horribly and exhausting.
"And let me tell you, that's putting it nicely." She stated in a dejected fashion.
"Well it's not all bad though, is it. I say, at least you obtain access to new places and sights." Horte Cuisine said with a smile
"True, but at least you don't get nagged at all the time." She chuckled back.
"Verily to that." He laughed. "You know, I had not had a guffaw like this in a long time. It will be a shame when you have to go."
"What do you mean?" She questioned, and no sooner had she said that when a loud, damned voice rang out to her.
"High Style! Ve go back now! Come, Come!" Came the unmistakable tone of Photo Finish.
"Speak of the devil herself." The mare muttered under her breath, before turning her attention back to Horte Cuisine. "Well now, it seems this is where we depart." She stated staidly.
"It does seems so." He replied somberly.
"Yes. Buuuuuut, before I go," she begun in a suspicious tone, "I will leave you with this." And at that statement, she pulled out pencil from her saddle-coat's pocket, and reached towards the nearest napkin on the bar counter, writing down something on the cloth before handing it to him.
"Why don't we talk another time, say, in my hotel room where I'm staying at?" She teased him as she walked off to meet up with her fellow assistants.
"Why, that seemed like a splendid idea." He said to nopony as she watched her walk out of the restaurant, and not a moment later did the realization struck hum. Looking down at the napkin, which did read a hotel address and her hotel room number, he muttered out:
"I've got a date...."