"One, two, three." Zhang Lei glanced lightly and threw the dice into the pen holder on the table.
The parabola draws a beautiful arc.
The moment the dice fell, a clanging sound came from the store, which was extremely clear.
The waiter held up his forehead and said, "Oh, I broke another one."
"It's time to get off work, let's go." Zhang Lei said.
The waiter raised his wrist to look at his watch and was stunned: "Because of your frugality, boss, you don't have anything to show the time in your office, and I don't see you looking at your phone. You actually know what time it is? I won't go there." When you come back from your trip, boss, are you enlightened?"
Zhang Lei smiled: "After three days, as a rule, she will break a dish before she is willing to leave work."
The waiter's little universe finally exploded: "Oh my god, why do you still hire her? I have never noticed that you have such a masochistic constitution before."
The anger level of these words is no different than asking "Why did you marry her?" In order to calm down the anger of his beloved employee, Zhang Lei cooperated and acted thoughtfully, but the corner of his mouth inadvertently raised a smile.
It was probably an accident that I invited that person.
That day, the coffee shop was about to close, but she barged in.
"I'm applying for a job as a waiter." She tilted her head and looked at the job advertisement in her hand. After thinking about it, she seemed to have finally chosen someone who was qualified for the job and made the final decision.
"Show some skills." He glanced at her. She was not beautiful, and she had a handsome appearance, but her eyebrows were crooked, which was very pleasing.
She was a little surprised, "Waiters also need special skills?"
He said calmly: "Miss, please do as you please."
She said, "Well, I can make tiramisu."
There was a trace of suspicion in her eyes, and it seemed that he was the one making trouble unreasonably now.
To this day, he still hasn't figured out why he invited a waiter who can make tiramisu but is prone to breaking the pot.
The waiter knows how to make tiramisu, the pastry chef in the store knows how to make it, and of course, he can make it too.
That day, her tiramisu was even a little bitter, but he tasted the taste of longing. You're just being pretentious, aren't you