I park early and only have to wait in the car for maybe 15 minutes before taking only my single car key and a few sheets of paperwork and begin walking. The main drag is filled with people, sitting, walking, eating, loudly. Heat lamps on the sidewalk where people sit, my bright red shirt glows I’m sure. Inside Sino I find Chris, seeming busy, shake hands and he gives me a tray with dishes on it and instructs me to drop it off at the dishwasher. I find the place easily because I’ve been back there before but I place it randomly where ever theres a clear space. It’s not terribly busy so the kitchen doesn’t have the greatest sense of urgency about it but the wok’s flame and knifes make sharps raps on cutting boards. Garlic, oils, and rice scent the air. I meet other runners with red shirts and servers and so far everyone is nice and I remain polite and corrigible. Tiffany, one of the managers, sits me down with her in the back managers office and we go over some paperwork before she shows me around to each section of the restaurant. So far the hardest thing yet I find is that I will have to memorize the seating numbers and everything on the menu. Back in the kitchen I meet Christian, a veteran runner, who will be one of my trainers. He is shorter than me with black hair and a black goatee which goes well with his dark face. He has a spanish accent which makes him have to spell out some words to me but it’s not at all that hard to understand. On his arms are tattoos of music notes and lines along with lettered names going up the back of his forearms. Chrome earrings dangle from his elongated ear lobes and a short black necklace with a metal monkey pendant swings from his neck when he bends over sometimes. He groves well with everyone, bumping fists with some of the other guys and receives hugs from the girls. I like him because he is easygoing and I don’t sense any sort of hostility from him. As well as knowing exactly where every table is out the door he is a ninja with holding plates of food. Something that will take me time to master. Luckily the place isn’t that busy giving me time to adjust to the atmosphere. I learn quickly about the tickets which we get the orders on and where they go in relation to what they have printed on them. Habits start forming as I snap my head over to where the appetizers are made, called Dim-Sum, which is a separate part of the kitchen from where the entrees are made. Within a few hours I have a good idea of what dishes are what and where most of the tables are. Christian and Jason, another vet runner, help me along and soon I am taking trays and plates of food out to the correct tables with confidence. For my first day I am happy. I didn’t come away with a feeling of defeat. After I clock out and give the time receipts to Tiffany, Chris and I walk out to get his dinner and go over to his place to relax. I haven’t been on my feet for this long in a while. I’ve always liked Chris and I’m glad he’s friendly. He has a small house in the city he shares with his girlfriend and two very well muscled pit bulls. The pits will energetically do their best to climb into your arms and then after beating them back will languish upside down on the floor, couch or pillows, looking at you longingly. Or maybe they just wanted my sandwich.