Chapter 5
Trixie was free. Most of the day had gone by in a blur, but all that she knew was that she was a free mare.
She… didn’t know what to do next. She had no money anymore, no shelter… nothing.
She wandered aimlessly through the streets of Canterlot. Cadence had offered her a place to stay in the Castle, but Trixie… really didn’t feel comfortable facing the astral diarchs of Equestria.
Maybe there’s a place that needs a worker, and would be willing to give me a place to rest in return for whatever they need me to do.
Trixie wasn’t sure if things worked that way, but she sure hoped they did. She was frankly surprised that she had no help from the crown. The entire process of being set free involved paying a fine, which used up the last of Trixie’s savings, being told that she had five hundred hours of community service, and then she was let go.
I suppose I should just be happy I’m not living out the rest of my life behind bars. Five hundred hours though...
An idea suddenly popped into Trixie’s head.
Community service just means that I can’t be compensated financially. I don’t see anything that would say that I can’t work for a place to rest for the night.
Trixie hadn’t been told when she needed to complete her service hours, but she felt like she should start working them off as soon as she possibly could. Without even thinking, Trixie had found herself walking into a small cafe in the middle class district of Canterlot. It felt homely, and comforting.
And busy. The café was ridiculously busy.
“We’ll be seating you whenever we can! I’m sorry, but I just can’t get you a time estimate yet!”
Came the pleasant, yet strained voice of a unicorn waitress. Trixie blinked, then opened her mouth to apologize, before she closed it.
“Do you… need help? Is there anything Trixie can do to help you?”
The waitress stared at her, unsure how to respond, before turning around and heading towards a swinging door at the back of the café, calling behind her shoulder as she went.
“I’ll… uh… see what the cook says. We may have some use for a dishwasher, but I don’t know for certain at the moment. One moment please!”
Trixie watched as the chocolate-brown unicorn set four glasses of water and silverware sets on a table where an earth pony, pegasus and two unicorns sat, chatting animatedly with each other, before continuing towards the door to the kitchen
She shuffled on her hooves, and waited awkwardly.
I hope this works out… I really need a place to sleep.
The door squeaked open, and the unicorn she had seen earlier trotted out, three plates of food and one bowl in her olive green magical aura. She weaved her way through the crowded cafe with practiced ease, and set the plates down, one at a time upon the same table she had set the water glasses on.
“Here you go! One order of hasselback potatoes and some roasted baby carrots for the ladies, and we have a bowl of butternut squash bisque for one gentlestallion, and a turmeric roasted fennel, chickpeas and kale salad for the other gentlestallion! Anything else I can get for you folks?”
A chorus of declines followed, and the waitress smiled pleasantly before thanking them and moving on towards Trixie.
“Sorry about that! But yes! We desperately need some help right now, we’re busier than usual, and our cook can’t keep up on the dishes. If you’d be willing to do dishes for the rest of the night, the cook said he’d be willing to discuss some form of payment after the night.”
Trixie smiled, this was perfect.
“Trixie would be happy to help!”
The waitress smiled tiredly, then gestured for Trixie to head to the back of the restaurant. Trixie nodded, and started making her way through, trying her best to replicate what the waitress had done. But she couldn’t, on her way, some stallion jumped up and shouted something about his food being cold, nearly running into her.
“You! You look like you work here, tell that good-for-nothing cook that my peas weren’t uniformly hot! I demand a refund and a new dish!”
Trixie didn’t know what to do! She really didn’t work here! She mumbled something about double checking with the cook, before looking helplessly at the waitress, who was making her way quickly towards them.
The stallion was looking at her expectedly, but Trixie just moved on.
“The waitress will be with you shortly!”
She called out nervously, before making her way more quickly towards the kitchen, nearly tripping over another chair that had somehow materialized in front of her in the process.
Finally she made it through the door, and was met by a whirlwind of action. There was only one cook, and one small grill that didn’t look to be any bigger than one of the tables in the lobby. An earth pony in a chef’s uniform was mumbling angrily under his breath, before suddenly snapping up and towards the door.
“What in the blazes is it now?!”
He snarled, before noticing Trixie.
“You the new dishwasher?”
Trixie nodded dumbly. He sighed with apparent relief.
“Thank Celestia, our damnable dishwasher called in last second today, and we’ve been slammed non-stop ever since. I’ll give you a quick rundown of how the dishwasher works, but then I have to get ANOTHER BLOODY SCUM-SWALLOWING PIECE OF GARBAGE their meal.”
Trixie just nodded again.
“Right, so the machine does most of the work for you, all you have to do is scrub the worst of the plates off, and then put them in that wee little holder there. After that, it’s as simple as pushing the holder full of dishes into the washer, closing it, adding soap into the reservoir below it.”
He gestured to a small reservoir that smelled sharply of cleaning chemicals, and had a small utensil that looked similar to a microphone, but was attached at the back by a chain. It appeared to be a plug of some sorts.
“Then you run water into it by pulling the lever that’s colored black, once you’ve done that for a few seconds, pull that lever back up, then move to the second lever that’s marked with red, and pull it down. That lever will set off a timer, and the machine should do the rest for you.”
Trixie tried following the words as they came spilling out of the cook quickly and clearly. She thought she knew what she was doing.
“You understand?”
The cook asked. Trixie gulped, before responding.
“Ye-yes. Trixie understands.”
“Good, I have to get back to the grill. We’ll talk later.”
Trixie turned to the machine, and the three sinks that seemed to all be overflowing with dishes. She sighed.
Well, it’s not glamorous work, but it’ll have to do.
She got to work, following the loud cook’s instructions as best as she could. After a little bit of time, she was able to block out the swearing and shouting that constantly seemed to be spewing out of the cook’s mouth, and just focused on doing her job, and doing it well. She ignored the feeling of disgust she had at dealing with other ponies’ leftovers, and ignored her burning embarrassment at having been reduced to doing common jobs that anycreature could do off the streets. She’d been in prison for the past several months. Surely she could do some dishes.
***
Trixie was shaken out of her daze. For the past five hours her whole world was moving back and forth across the dishwashing machine, and the three sinks, scrubbing plates, bowls and silverware, shoving them into the machine, and running the dishes through. She blinked blearily at the one who had interrupted her stupor. The smiling face of the waitress pony greeted her.
“Last batch of dishes here!”
Trixie looked between the waitress, who was levitating a plastic container full of dishes, to the nearly-empty sinks and back to the waitress. Trixie was confused, there were no more dishes?
“We closed twenty minutes ago, the cook and I are just finishing up our closing duties now. Register is cleared, and all I have to do now is sweep, then I’m out of here! Cook wants you up front to discuss payment after you finish up with these dishes. Thank you so much for your help! You really saved our flanks tonight!”
“Trixie is… glad to hear that!” The waitress smiled at her pleasantly.
Trixie felt… unexpectedly happy at the thanks of a complete stranger. She took the plastic container from the waitress’s magical aura, and turned back to finish up her work. One last round of scrubbing, rinsing, and putting the dishes through the machine. She assumed they would be drying overnight for the opening work tomorrow. She dried herself with a quick cantrip, then trotted through the door.
The first thing that hit Trixie was the quietness of the café. The lights were mostly off, and everything was neatly organized. Cups were stacked, coffee mugs were set out to dry, tables were all clear and restocked with napkins, sugar, salt and pepper. And standing at the cash register, the cook was muttering under his breath and studying a long piece of paper. Trixie coughed delicately, not wanting to disturb him. He looked up immediately, and upon seeing Trixie smiled.
“Hey, thanks for your help in there. If you hadn’t shown up, I would have had to do dishes as well as make them.”
He chuckled to himself.
“Ponies don’t seem to realize that when we’re full, we can’t make certain dishes quickly. And certain custom orders are simply impossible to make. Anyways, you did a good job tonight. I can’t send you out without some form of compensation, so… Caramel and I set aside some of the tip money today for you. But I’m sure you need something more than thirty bits, so tell me. What do you need?”
Trixie stared at the small stack of bits in front of her. She hadn’t been expecting compensation at all. And where was the loud, swearing cook she had tuned out for most of the day? She heard another chuckle.
“You look confused. Something you need clarified?”
Trixie looked back up to him from the stack of bits.
“Yes, you are correct. Trixie is confused. The pony standing before her, is a lot different from the pony she was introduced to in the kitchen… what gives?”
“You haven’t worked in a kitchen before, have you?”
The cook plainly asked. Trixie shook her head.
“Yep, thought so. To put it simply, when we’re busy like that, or busy at all, my language and mannerisms are more of a catharsis than anything. It’s tiring work, being back there and slaving over a stove for eight hours a day. But anyways, we’re getting off-topic. You were likely not working out of the goodness of your heart. So, what do you need? I can pay you an additional fifteen bits if you just wanted compensation for you work.”
Trixie shook her head.
“No, Trixie didn’t expect to be paid at all. She’s not employed here after all. But, yes. There is something she needed. You see, she’s out of a house at the moment and… was perhaps wondering if you had a place for her to rest over the night?”
The cook considered Trixie for a moment, before speaking.
“No kidding, huh? You’re serious about this?”
Trixie nodded.
“Well, I certainly wouldn’t mind if you stayed the night here. I’ll even bring some blankets and a pillow down for you. On one condition.”
Trixie sighed, she should’ve seen this coming.
“Trixie supposes she doesn’t have a choice here. What do you need?”
The cook grinned.
“I want you to help out with dishes again tomorrow. And if we’re not too busy, I’d like to get you out front to learn how to bus. You can expect some bits tomorrow as well, and if you needed it, you could stay the night again. Same rules though. You’re welcome to stay here as long as you like, provided you clear your sleeping space before we open tomorrow, and that you help with whatever we need you to help with. Deal?”
Trixie couldn’t believe what she was hearing. How had she gotten so lucky?
Best to not question things. This is a good thing!
She smirked at the cook, and raised her hoof to meet his already waiting one.
“Deal.”
The cook’s grin got even wider at that.
“See you tomorrow then!”
***
Trixie wiped her brow, and concentrated on the ground in front of her. She was finishing up her fortieth hour of community service, and had just enough time to head to a public shower to freshen up before going to the café, which she now knew was called New Elysium Lane for her next shift there. She’d been learning a lot, and was really starting to get to know her two coworkers. Their dishwasher had quit soon after Trixie had shown up. So, now it was just the three of them, and she was… starting to see them as a sort of family. The cook, who insisted they only call him ‘Cook’ was a maelstrom of rage when behind the kitchen door, but was an absolute joy to be around when the café was closed.
He also had his worker’s interests at heart, above all else. This much was apparent when the waitress, Caramel Dahlia, had stiffly walked through the door to the kitchen, before breaking down sobbing. Trixie had halted in her dishwashing, unsure if she was welcome enough or even equipped enough to help soothe the feelings of the crying mare, who she’d only ever seen as cool, collected and calm.
The cook had materialized next to the waitress, muttering comforting words about letting it out.
The crying lasted for only a few moments, and when Caramel was cognizant enough to explain exactly why it was that she was crying. She went on about how the customers today were generally jerks, and how she was being overwhelmed on the floor.
“How is that any different than any other day?” Cook had asked, pointedly. “There must be more to it than that.”
Caramel had hesitated, then shot a worried look at Trixie. Trixie shrugged, and moved to the other side of the kitchen, so she wouldn’t overhear. Caramel had then whispered something in Cook’s ear. Trixie didn’t know what she said, but suddenly it was as if every single piece of rage that Cook had at the general stupidity of customers had been zeroed in on one very, very unfortunate pony. He had kicked the door open so hard that it had nearly flown off its hinges, and all the general noise of the café went deathly silent as everypony stared at the towering piece of rage that was their cook.
Some ponies promptly got up, threw some bits on the table to cover their meals, and left. One after another, they had all left. Meals half-eaten, drinks still freshly topped off…
Trixie couldn’t help herself, she moved to the door and looked out curiously. Eventually only one stallion remained, obliviously eating away at his meal. Eventually, he must’ve noticed something was the matter, because he looked around, confused, before meeting the fiery gaze of the cook. He had shrunk from the sheer ire that the cook emanated.
“You.”
The cook hissed between his teeth menacingly. The stallion seemed frozen in place.
“Do not. Get to. Speak to my workers the way you did. Do not act like you did towards my workers.”
The stallion stuttered something akin to an apology, and the cook openly snarled at him. He cowered even lower into his seat.
“You will be sorry. If you ever show your scummy face here in my fine establishment again.”
The stallion nodded rapidly, then tried to shoot out of his seat.
“HOLD IT RIGHT THERE!”
The stallion froze, the sheer weight of the cook’s voice overriding his flight. The cook marched menacingly up to him, and Trixie watched in awe as the cook leaned down, and whispered in the Stallion’s ear.
He seemed to freeze as he listened, face going pale, before nodding meekly. He looked up towards Caramel, who was shivering behind Trixie.
“I-I’m sorry Miss. I’ll never say something like that again.”
“Aaaaaaaand?” The cook hissed. The stallion flinched.
“A-and… you’ll never see me again. And I’m sorry I acted the way I did.”
“Good. Now, pay for your meal, and leave your waitress a nice tip, and get the hell out of my restaurant.”
The thump of an entire sack of bits hit the table, and the stallion nearly tripped over himself in his flight. Cook turned around, face grim.
“Alright Trixie, we’re closing early. Help Caramel out up front, will you? I’ll take care of the dishes. Remind me tomorrow to give all of our patrons a discount for the inconvenience today.”
Trixie stared, mouth agape, before slowly nodding her head. The rest of the day had gone by slowly. Whatever had happened had clearly shaken Caramel, and the two didn’t chat amicably as they had on previous shifts.
Trixie to this day had no idea what the stallion had done, though… she could guess.
Good thing I do my job. And that I’m working for him.
Trixie smiled. Yes, she actually found herself enjoying her time at New Elysium.
Maybe I should actually discuss full-time employment and pay… I’ll have to tell them about my community service though… Maybe part time until I finish up my hours?
Trixie tabled those thoughts. There was still fifteen minutes of work left to do, and then she had an eight hour shift at the café. She sighed.
No rest for the wicked I suppose…
She then forced a smile to her face. At least she was free, and making up for her mistakes.
I have something here. I have a life. Maybe soon I can visit Rainbow… I hope I’m able to. I miss her.
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Heh. I didn't even realize I'd passed 10k words last chapter...
This really started out as a project for me to do a deep-dive into Trixie as a character. I never quite got the general dislike she got from the fanbase.
Now it's something much bigger, I have plans. Lots of them!
Hope you all stick with me through what will likely be a wonky update schedule.
Thank you so much for being here on this journey with me!
So she not only has a place to stay but also a job.
Why did he quit?
Did he threaten to cook him in his next meal?
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Did she get hate?
10847260
Sometimes people just quit. No work ethic, didn't like the workplace, found a better job, just got lazy, multitudes of reasons.
I honestly didn't pay much attention, as that's exactly what I'd do in real life if somebody just up and quit after calling in last second.
It's happened before, you're left shorthanded and usually screwed by unexpected business, and you just gotta deal with it.
10847261
Occasionally. Not all the time, but more often than not
10847309
Yikes
10847310
Really?