Higashi, a Japanese tourist, entered a restaurant expecting a warm meal. But Andy, a seasoned waiter, had a cunning plan for non-native customers who didn’t speak English. He served Higashi reheated leftovers and robbed him. Andy thought he’d get away with it, but this time, he was sorely mistaken.

The dinner rush at Sizzling Steak was in full swing. Louise, a new waitress still finding her rhythm, weaved between tables with a practiced smile. That’s when a middle-aged Japanese man, impeccably dressed in a kimono and overcoat, caught her eye.

He scanned the room before settling on a corner table. Louise hurried over, menu in hand. “Welcome to Sizzling Steak,” she greeted warmly. The man, Higashi, smiled back, his eyes crinkling with delight.

He spoke in rapid Japanese, gesturing at the picture of a juicy steak. “Steak,” he repeated, then added, “With rice… rice bowl!”

Louise, whose Japanese was limited to basic greetings, recognized the struggle. “Of course, sir, we have a delicious steak option!” she said brightly. “We don’t have rice bowls, but would you like fries with your steak?”

Higashi nodded vigorously. “Fries! Okay, okay!”

As Louise turned to leave, a wave of nausea hit her. There, by the counter, sat a half-eaten steak, cold and unappetizing. She grimaced, reaching for a plate to clear it away.

Suddenly, a gruff voice boomed, “Hold on there, kiddo! What do you think you’re doing? Why waste good food?”

It was Andy, the senior waiter, his face a permanent scowl. He eyed the plate, then the unsuspecting customer, a smirk twisting his lips.

“Waste not, want not!” he rasped, snatching the plate from Louise. “Serve it to him!”

Louise’s stomach lurched. “We can’t serve that, Mr. Miller!” she protested. “It’s cold and…”

“Relax,” Andy interrupted, waving a dismissive hand. “New guy in town, probably won’t know the difference.”

“But it’s wrong!” Louise’s voice rose, panic creeping in. “What if he complains?”

Andy threw back his head and laughed, drawing unwanted attention. “Come on, Louise,” he said. “He’s just a tourist. Doesn’t speak a word of English. Easy pickings, you gotta admit.”

Louise’s jaw clenched. Serving leftover food violated everything she believed in. But Andy, her only advocate at this point, was pressuring her, and the fear of losing her job was a cold, heavy weight in her gut.
“But I can’t! I can’t serve garbage to him. That’s against the rules!” she said.

“Look at it this way: you’re saving food from going to waste,” Andy said.

“If you don’t follow my rules, I can get you kicked out. I can say you stole the steak and no one will know it went in the bin.”

Shame burned in Louise’s cheeks. With trembling hands, she picked up the tray and served it to Higashi.

“This isn’t what I ordered,” Higashi said, pointing at the food. “No, I don’t want this.”

Before Louise could respond, Andy appeared beside the table, his face darkening.

“What’s going on here?” he snapped. Ignoring Louise’s pleading look, he snatched the plate from her grasp and slammed it back down.

“Hold on a second, Jackie Chan,” he barked at Higashi. “This is your order, right? Eat it!”

“Mr. Miller, stop it!” Louise blurted. “He’s a customer! Be respectful!”

Ignoring her, Andy continued to harass Higashi with racist remarks, demanding he eat the cold steak. Higashi, bewildered and hurt, rose from his chair, clearly wanting to leave.

But just as he turned, a wad of cash slipped from his wallet, revealing hundreds of dollars. He put a hundred dollars on the table and began to leave. In that moment, greed flickered in Andy’s eyes. He lunged forward, blocking Higashi’s exit.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, hold on there!” he said, his voice oily now. “That’s… that’s a lot of dough you got there, buddy!”

Louise watched, her stomach churning, as Andy spun a web of lies to keep Higashi and his money. He promised a better meal and a luxurious experience, but Louise knew it was all a ruse. Andy shoved the hundred-dollar bill into Louise’s hand, forcing her to participate in his charade.

The situation was spiraling out of control. Louise had to find a way to protect Higashi, her job, and her own morals. But with Andy’s desperation mounting, she wasn’t sure what move to make next.

***

Relief washed over Higashi’s face as he surveyed the steaming dishes Andy presented. The aroma of grilled salmon and teriyaki chicken filled the air, a far cry from the cold, reheated steak. A bottle of sake, its elegant label speaking of his homeland, completed the unexpected feast.