Hotel Wack! (Gordon Ramsay Fanfiction)

Hell As it Is

"One risotto and one spaghetti!" I shouted out, looking at the ticket as I put it up for the chefs to see.

As per usual, they looked up and didn't say a word.

"Well gosh diddly darn it y'all are like statues!" I quivered and rolled my eyes. "Just get it done."

I went to the POS system and put my table's order in, sighing. This wasn't the first time this has happened at my job, and it certainly won't be my last.

Oh shit, I guess I should introduce myself. My name is Evelyn Masters and I have been a waitress at the Brookstone Hotel for as long as I remember. Well damn now I sound old. I am 25, and worked here since I was 16. The Brookstone Hotel is located in a small town in Oregon, mostly known for the trails and woods for tourists to hike. I myself find it not so quirky that this big three story bricked up hotel was located in the middle of the damn woods, but to their own I guess.

Things have been hell here. We have a owner who would rather sleep with her employees than actually run a hospitality business. Well, because of her sleeping with men, my existence came to be.

Yes, homie. This slutty owner was my mother.

Divine Masters, the wackiest person ever and I'm flabbergasted for real that she was able to raise me. She was 45 but didn't act like it, and wanted to drink all day than be a owner. She inherited the hotel from her father, and my grandfather would be disgusted at how she neglected it.

Anyways, let's get back on track on this adventure.

I finished putting the order in the POS, and turned back to see the chef's putting the frozen pasta in the microwave, timing it for 5 minutes. I shook my head and went out to the dining room to the little customers we had.

After tending the tables I was assigned, I went over to the bar, where my coworker, Aaron who was the bartender, was mixing a whiskey drink.

"How's it hanging?" I asked, sitting on the stool and grabbing the silverware and wrapping it in the cloth napkins.

Aaron shrugged as he poured the drink in a mule glass, handing it over to the customer who was sitting watching the TV.

"Besides this guy, I had no customers at all come in today." Aaron replied, running his hand through his curly blonde hair.

"You and me both." I nodded, continuing wrapping my silverware. "This place is gonna go down in flames."

"If your mother would actually care." Aaron snickered.

"You know she won't." I said with a chuckle.

Aaron leaned down on the table looking at me. "I heard that Tiffany and Jackson are planning on doing something that can help this place."

"Like what?"

"Call Gordon Ramsay to help us out and shoot an episode of Hotel Hell."

I choked and laughed. "Bruh are you serious? He is still doing that shit?"

Aaron smiled. "Series Three."

"Damn, bro." I sighed and looked down at my watch. "Well I'm going to check if these two dishes are done."

"Doubt it."

"Right?"

I stood up and made my way towards the kitchen doors and opened it, seeing the two dishes are not on the counter.

"Oh my god guys seriously?" I groaned and pulled my brown hair. "It has been five minutes and I have seen you put that shit in the microwave it has to be done."

The head chef, Marco, looked up at me with no soul in his eyes. "It's done when it's done."

I said it back to him mockingly. "Man if I were my mother I would fire you on the spot."

"But you aren't." The other chef, Holt added with a laugh.

The two ended up laughing and went back to whatever fuckery they were doing.

I stared at both of them with death in my eyes, and grabbed a loaf of probably already expired bread. I was about to throw it at both of them until I heard the doors open.

"I heard laughing where is the party?"

I turned to see my mother standing there, dressed in a crop top, black jeans, heels, jewlery and a face cakey of makeup. Her brown hair was in a 80's updo.

"Divine, control your damn daughter." Marco stated. "She is rushing us."

I frowned and turned to my mother. "Mom they haven't made their order's food in 20 minutes!"

My mother looked at me with hardened eyes and until she smiled. "Oh Evelyn, let them work! They are amazing and talented chefs and their food will be done and amazing!"

As if on cue, I heard the bell ring for order up, and I turned to see the two plates there. Smoking, but are they done?

"See?" My mother said and walked out of the kitchen.

My hands were balled in fists and my anger was flaring up. I am so over this shit for real. Her being my mother didn't really matter.

I went over to the dishes and checked the quality. As usual the pasta for the spaghetti was overcooked and the meat sauce looked clearly like a can of Prego and store bought meat. Which it was literally is. The risotto was the same story. I gave Marco an evil look and walked out to the dining room and went to my customers who looked clearly annoyed by the timing of their dish.

"One spaghetti, and one risotto, I'm so sorry for your wait." I said, placing their dishes down. "Enjoy."

I walked out of the dining room and threw the tray on the floor in the kitchen. In the back I heard Holt laugh.

"What's the problem, Miss?" He asked sarcastically.

I turned to him, looking at his dumbass lookin white redheaded self. "You. You and Marco are the problem. My mother is the problem, this whole place is the problem. And I'm sick of it. I'm over sending shitty food that takes more time than it has to, I'm sick of my mom not caring and just simping over you. I'm done."

I looked down at the floor and raised an eyebrow. "I'm done." I said in realization.

I took off my waitress apron and threw it on the floor and walked out of the kitchen, through the dining room, past the customers who seemed clearly unpleased by their meals, and when I was almost at the front door-

"Evelyn!"

I turned around and saw Tiffany and Jessica, my fellow waiters, who was standing their smiling and full of excitement.

"Guess what?" Tiffany asked, her blue eyes blazing.

"My next therapy session is free." I guessed.

"No." Jackson said. "Gordon Ramsay is coming here next week!"

I widened my eyes, flabbergasted for real.