A teammate didn't show up. Everyone's stressed. What now?
It's a Tuesday, 6:47 p.m., in the back office of a busy neighborhood restaurant. The dinner rush is thirty minutes out and the low buzz of prep — knives on cutting boards, the walk-in door thumping closed — leaks through the wall.
You've been here nine months. Long enough that people vent to you. Long enough that they don't perform for you anymore. Maya, one of your closest coworkers, drops into the chair across from you still in her apron. Her mascara has run a little. She's on her third double this week.
Down the hall, Jordan's locker is still shut. You don't know yet why they didn't show — but the manager, Denise, will walk into this office in under ten minutes and someone will have to say something.