haku_shirokuma
I finished my morning work as an industrial doctor, withdrew some money from the ATM at the post office, and on my way to my afternoon work at the rehabilitation outpatient clinic, I passed by that famous restaurant. Just as one group of customers (in their 30s) was leaving, I decided to enter out of curiosity. Inside, there were two elderly customers at the counter, a woman in her 50s at the table on the right, and I was seated at the table farthest on the left by a lady with a stern expression who seemed ageless. She had a swift and precise way of moving that didn't reveal her age, and an aura that kept people at a distance. I felt nervous as she subtly glanced back at me whenever I moved (especially my hands). Unconsciously, I took out my wallet from my pocket and placed it on the table. The menu, along with a basket of cutlery containing chopsticks, fork, and spoon, and a glass of water with a hint of lemon flavor, were brought to me. The handwritten menu listed lunch options such as Sally's Tomato, Fox's Eggs (the nighttime version of the same restaurant), and the name of the affiliated bar, BAR AGAIN, with a note at the bottom saying "Please refrain from taking photos inside the restaurant." I decided to go for the weekday lunch set (soup, salad, coffee) priced at 1180 yen. The options were A: Clam and Spinach in Tomato Sauce, B: Chicken in White Sauce, C: Mushroom in Tomato Cream, D: Small Shrimp in Lemon Flavor, E: Clam Doria. I called out to the lady, who was standing with her back to me in front of the kitchen's roll shade, and ordered the Clam and Spinach in Tomato Sauce lunch set. She acknowledged my order and went to the kitchen to relay it. After a few minutes, she lifted the roll shade slightly in front of the kitchen and brought out a cup of soup and a salad, then lowered the shade again. She placed them in front of me and stepped back, but her presence was still felt, making me nervous. Just as I was about to check the email with medical consultation documents attached on my phone, the lady reminded me in a loud voice, "Please refrain from taking photos inside the restaurant." I quickly assured her that I wasn't taking photos and thanked her. She then moved back towards the kitchen. I thought it would have been better if she had checked if I was actually taking a photo before giving the reminder, but oh well. I decided to respond with good manners to her high-quality service. Later, a customer at the counter asked her about the weather forecast for the day, to which she briefly tilted her head, brought her right ear closer, and replied with a light smile before swiftly leaving the area. The soup, a rich yellow corn potage with bright green dried parsley, and the salad, with plenty of French onion dressing on large lettuce leaves, were delicious. I accidentally spilled some dressing on the tablecloth and quickly wiped it off with a napkin. After finishing the soup and salad, I pushed the fork aside and the lady promptly came to clear the table. She gently placed the soup cup on the counter, stacked the salad plate in front of the kitchen, and offered to take my tray. I was relieved that I had pushed the tray slightly away earlier. Ah, what a relief!
