Restraining Order

I have taken out a restraining order against the dish pig.

During the lunch rush, I struggle to stack dirty dishes the correct way; "Plates with plates, bowls with bowls, cutlery in the basket" (Policies and Procedures, Chapter 11, section 5)
This morning he claimed he was too busy to stack AND wash and threatened to slit my throat if I did not "match the shapes".

The dish pig is a classically trained actor with anger management issues.

He is permitted to stay at Caffe Cinque as long as he keeps his temper in check with weekly visits to a therapist. Before Caffe Cinque he was briefly employed at a call centre, but was fired for excessive use of the word "mate", as in "Don't hang up on me mate or I'll ram this fucking phone up your arse I know where you live mate."

One condition of the restraining order is that he must keep a distance of twenty feet from me at all times, which makes working the floor virtually impossible, so I have decided to supervise the wait staff from behind the drinks fridge, until Spiro leaves and I am reunited with my precious Gaggia.