Deutsche Küche Restaurant (Permanent/Job)

[Winters]

Deutsche Küche Restaurant

This thread is for Deutsche Küche Restaurant employees only, and/or customers.

-In your post include:

• Total hours for the week you must work.
  
• How many hours you worked that day (Can work a max of 8 only).
  
• What you served (applies to those earning tip, only).
  
• Detail (Moderators will be more inclined to throw in more 'tips').
  
• The amount of money you have earned for your accumulated posts of that month.

Money Equations:

General Manager Jonathan: $50 A Hour
Hall Manager Valekin: $50 A Hour
Bartender Aureus: $4 A Hour + Tips (15-20% Of Costs For Orders)
Waitress Calamity$4 A Hour + Tips (15% Of Costs For Orders)
Janitor "Thrush": $8 A Hour
Busboy Garret FitzGerald: $8 A Hour

Militia Operations Equations:

Financial Information:

Total Revenue	100%
Costs Of Goods Sold	41.9%
Advertising	2.0%
Car & Truck Expenses	.6%
Commissions	.1%
Depreciation	2.5%
Employee Benefit Programs	.1%
Insurance	1.3%
Legal & Professional Services	.6%
Meals & Entertainment	.1%
Interest Expense	1.3%
Office Expense	.2%
Pension & Profit-Sharing Plans	0%
Rent On Machinery & Equipment	8%
Rent On Other Buisness Property	6.3%
Repairs	1.5%
Salaries & Wages	16.5%
Supplies	1.6%
Taxes	4.3%
Travel	.1%
Utilities	4.6%
Other Buisness Expenses	4.5%
Total Expenses	90.9%
Net Income To Owner	9.1%

• We are funded and sponsored by Mr. Asiv, who will gain 20% of the Co-Owner's remaining net income.
  
• All control is left with Mr. Winters, the Co-Owner.
  
• 16.5% is of the employee's salaries and wages. The more money they make, the larger the overall equation.
  
• Example: If employee's total overall wages add up to $16500, the net income will be $9100, of which Mr. Asiv will gain $1820 from the Co-Owner's pocket.
  
  
• OOC Note: All remaining funds from 'this' equation will go into 'Militia's' stockpile of cash, and may only be used to purchase materials and create items to sell for further profit. Customizations may be added by the new owners, after sold/distributed.

---

Note: Every hour must have 100 words each. Use Microsoft Word to check.

You get paid at the end of the month.

[valekin]

Morning
Tuesday
6:00 AM

Valekin got to the brand new building, first. Now it was a nice building, all of it brand new, which was great. He had parked several blocks away. And walked to the back of the building. Fitting the key into the lock, and opening the door. Soon the line cooks would arrive, and start their baking and prepping. Baking must be done first, as one has to bake the day's bread early. Not as you go. He had gotten in, and made sure the back was spotless first, then the front. It took him a while, as he was meticulous in his search.

Then they started to arrive, the cooks. Rowdy and stupid. He was the first person they saw when they got there, and he immediately gave them orders once they clocked in.

"Just because the manager isn't here doesn't mean you can slack off. Start the baking, and get the kitchen prepared. We'll open at eight."

A few groaned, but that was to be expected. Valekin was a hardass to them. They didn't like it either, he was younger than they were, and he was ordering them around? Sure, they accepted Jonathan ordering them around, but only because he owned the place. What basis of respect did they owe him?

(223)

[Jenna Scorn]

A small yawn had fallen from those lips as she made her way down the street. Pink converse skidding along the sidewalk as the restaurant would come into view. She was excited, and slightly nervous, but she was sure that all would go well.

She had woken up bright and early, 4:00 am, went for a quick jog and scampered on home, gotten ready and now was making her way towards the restaurant.

Black and pink strands hung form her shoulders, those eyes dusted with just a tint of pink, lined with black and tamed with mascara. And those lips were lightly glossed, and soon she would be smiling at the beings inside the building.

She'd give a few gentle raps at the back door, and would take a step back. Letting her hands rest at her side, dressed in a pair of black pants, and a black button up shirt with just a hint of frills upon the shoulders, and a pearl neckless adorned her neck.

Yes, she looked..normal?
For once.

And now, she was ready to work.

[Delilah A. Black]

Delilah came in only a minute after the first cooks arrived. The raven haired girl was by no means used to waking up this early, even for school. Realizing she was a little late, she clocked in quickly, tying her hair back and walking swiftly to the sink to wash up. Shaking the excess water from her hands, she went back to the cooking area.

The other chef's were already pulling out ingredients for the most preemptive orders of the day. They were disscussing the special for lunch later that day; Quiche, with the customers choice of fresh vegetables. A few were already talking about ingredient choices, while herself and two others rearranged the tools and other items closing crew left for them before leaving to their liking.

Eyes rolling to the ceiling, Delilah heard a tap at the back door. Lifting her eyebrows, she went to answer let whomever it was in. Upon seeing it was a girl fromher school she didn't really know, the raven haired girl smiled. "We're just setting up now." she informed her before turning back to the kitchen.

Standing at table, she was assigned the roll of kneading the dough for that mornings fresh baked wheat-bread. Beginning the process, Delilah first sprinkled her hands and the surface she was working on with flour to keep the dough from sticking. Using teh heel of her hands to compress the dough, she pushed it away from her, then folded it back over itself to repeat the process. Getting into a rythem, she put her weight into it like she had been taught, until the sough had became shiney, and had a satin like texture. To be sure it was ready for rising, she poked it with the tip of her index finger. Satisfied when the indent remained, Delilah handed it off to the next person in line, and accepted the next batch of dough, this time Rye bread.

(326)

[valekin]

Whistling, yes whistling, he stalked around the front. Meticulously putting all the tables and chairs in order, reorganizing them for comfort, and then reorganizing them again, and again. He was a little insane, and most of the employees knew it. Though they weren't aware of how insane he was. Sure, there was the idiocy with the claws, and the strange tattoos, but the man dressed well, and spoke well. He seemed highly educated, and well suited for the job.

He actually owned a chain of bar and grills on the east coast. Dead Freddie's. Yea, we're all thinking the same thing. That guy has some serious issues.

Right?

Right?!

If he wasn't the one with issues? Who was? Anyway, back on track here. The maniac, after rearranging things a bajillion times, went up to the host's podium, as they hadn't arrived at all yet. And drew up the division lines for the waiters and waitresses. With, a sharpie. Yes, a sharpie. He was feeling a little elated after that though. All the line drawing... ooooh. He distributed all the waitresses an equal amount of tables, and zoned them with their own colors.

With that done and out of the way, he stalked his way back to.. the back. Stopping at the bar to make sure all the glasses were there, clean, and shining. He made sure, absolutely sure that he could see through them, and land a quarter in a shot glass a few feet away. Yes, he was that meticulous. Insane, I know, but it was his way of doing things.

Upon arrival in the back, most of the chef's groaned.

"All righty, the front's all set up. Is everything prepared for breakfast? I need a list of specials so I can chalk them up on the board, and are any of the waiter's waitresses here yet? Yes, no?"

(322)

["Unfettered"]

Back To Work

General Manager. Well, yes. Waking up, and going through the standard morning rituals, "Unfettered" at once went to his desk. A saturday morning at 3:05 A.M. And a lot of work to be done.

Scrolling through a few cabinet drawers, he boredly looked around for the amount of goods sold. The cost. Reviewed. Not too bad, not too shabby. California was expensive, but they were actually turning up a profit. Sort of. $92 was last month's total income for the restaurant itself. All the employees got better paid then that. Geez.

Advertising was low. Actually, it was non-existent. Still no applicants for Advertisement Managers, in spite of Keith's suggestion against it. But the profits were low, and only enough to completely pay off the employees. That was his start. Might as fucking well get used to it.

In fact, there had been no revenue for any delivery services. They were losing money on maintenance for something they didn't even use. Yet. The fact that Deutsche Küche had survived its first few months was an amazing achievement. Reliant on the fact that word would spread. All the while, doing everything he could to nitpick and make sure the place didn't go down in value. Oh. Right. And let us not forget about the high costs for employee benefit programs. No, it wasn't much, but... there was a slight dental plan set up, some... minor health insurance provided, and well, yeah. He frowned over the amount of debt they could've potentially been in.

However, Mr. Asiv, even in death, did not fail to provide, it seemed. For some reason, the restaurant was still funded for. The checks kept on coming, and they in turn, paid their dues to... the strange address that Mr. Asiv had provided for him.

Aside from some light German music that would play in the background, the place was at least.. 'homely'. "Unfettered" was proud to say that this was not a dirty little dump. In fact, it was damn impressive. But perhaps that was it. The costs were just too much for the time being, and eventually... the businesses would pick up. Or so he hoped.

Slowly flicking through the files, he grinned, as he saw all his employees. First up, the Hall Manager, Mr. Kaluskov.

Mr. Kaluskov had actually been doing a rather good job, as of late. By those under him, he'd been labeled 'harsh', 'cruel', yet 'effective'. A smile grew on his face, remembering how 'effective' he was in throwing him out the window. Memories panged at the thought, but they subsided. Marking Kaluskov down for recommendation for promotion... he realized this would probably happen, at best, in December.

Then there was Mi--- Jenna. For the work she HAD done, well, she was rather pleasing to the customers. Apparently the fact that she was a young Japanese woman with a rather.. *cough* fantastic body was what drew her as a money maker. Just had to work a little bit harder, and she'd come out on top, no doubt.

Bartender Hayes was the issue here. No, he wasn't a bad worker. More rather, it was BECAUSE he was a bartender that was the issue. Definitely not 21 yet, but still serving alcoholic drinks? Well... there are worse things. Committing this to memory, Jonathan tore up a few identification documents, and proceeded on. Actually, the junior looked very mature for his age, and the ladies were biting. Aside from the few who asked about his age (and as long as he kept his mouth smart and wise... in a good way), Mr. Hayes was in the clear.

Of course then, there was Mr. Fitzgerald. Typing up a few extra notes about him, "Unfettered" picked up his file. Ugh. There was... a lot of complaints about how 'mouthy' he was. A real conversationalist. He'd have to talk to Mr. Fitzgerald.---

"OYE, MR. WINTERS, YER BACK, THAT YOU ARE! AS SKINNY AND RIPPLING LIKE THE CATHOGS OF THE TIED LIVER FOR SIGHTS OF EYES THAT ARE PHYSICALLY SORE AND IN THE METAPHISICAL SENSE, YE ARE! WE HAVE AN EMERGENCY!"---

...WHAT!?

Looking at the clock, "Unfettered" looked at the clock. Shit. It'd been seven hours, and he hadn't gone down yet. Rushing up, he followed after Fitzgerald. Downstairs, at 10:12 A.M., the young German rushed up, to see a rather enraged and distressed waitress screaming at a customer who was sitting down. A slap mark was across his face. Shit.

I sense lawsuit.

"..C'mon, baby, you don't have to be like that..."

"...ASSHOLE!"

HE Walked up patiently, rather impressed with his own attire, as it seemed to send messages that he hated A/C. Nodding towards the young waitress, the girl smiled back at him in relief, as he customers kept calling after her, even as he she turned to leave. "Hey... HEY... HEY! YOU SLAPPED ME! GET BACK OVER HERE BITCH!"---

Gentle tap.

"...Sir. Please kindly leave, before I call the police on you. Thank you."

The man whirled around. Face fuming, because he hadn't gotten 'lucky' with a piece of jail bait. How absolutely wonderful. Fitz in the back seemed to gape. Didn't Jonathan usually stutter?

"..Oye. Aren't you a little young to be running a restaurant?"

"Seventeen, sir."

"Seventeen, my ass! Younger then THAT even.."

With absolute violence, the man got up, menacing, teeth gritted. He'd have to inform Aureus of the breach in alcohol limit, and train the other bartenders a little bit better.

"...I sure as hell ain't gonna let a pip-squeak brat tell ME he's gonna call police on ME."

Funny, really. "Unfettered" seemed to take this all in stride, as the man became enraged at the simple little smile, peering at the beheamoth of a man, through nearly closed eyes. As the pressure paramounted, the man launched into a heavy swing towards him.

And 'Bingo' was his name-o~...

SELF-DEFENSE!

Holing up his arms quickly, he absorbed the punch, catching it, hefted the man towards himself, onto his stronger shoulder, and threw him, landing him flat on the ground. The man seemed groggy, and sat up, but he seemed a little quiet.

"Unfettered" gritted his teeth.

Today was gonna be a looooooong day.

OOC: Word Total: [1113]
Normal Hours Worked: 8
Overtime Hours Worked: 3
Total Overtime Hours Worked For The Month: 3 of 6 Total Possible
Pay For August 4, 2007: 8 x 50 = 400 + (3 x 75) = 225 = $625

[Jenna Scorn]

She'd come in through the back, just like she had the time before. Lips pressed together as her head fell downwards across the floor. She put her things up, and now was standing off to the side tying a black apron about her frame.

She'd position the apron about her, tilting her head to the side as she'd hear some wild noise outside, and her head would peak out of the doors.

Her hair was tied up, back into a ponytail, but a few strands were allowed to hang to the side and as she'd look on a few of those strands would be tucked behind her ear.

She saw a man, but thats not what caught her attention. What would make those eyes slightly widen would be Winters. But thats when she'd return to the inside of the kitchen.

Now, letting her voice lift for a moment.

"Valekin??? Valekin?!?!"

This was said as she'd move to the back of the kitchen.
Finding some dished to wash.
Making herself busy in the kitchen, she didn't want to see Winters.


OOC:sorry, shitty post.

[valekin]

"What?"

She seemed panicked, and he was wondering what the deal was. He was in the kitchen as well, and was about to reprimand a line cook for not preparing an order correctly. Valekin was a monster among his co-workers, he drove them like slaves sometimes. They worked, and were productive at his command. His fearsome appearance did not help the fact that he came off as a man that knew the industry, and knew how to get people to do what he wanted them to do.

"Did some guy out there grab your ass or something? Do I have to remove him?"

Genuinely he was a bit concerned for her. As he did save her life, twice, and she was more and more like someone that relied upon him often. He waited for her to reply while he pointed out the things on the order that needed to be fixed. The fact that the patron didn't want any spices on the meal, and the want for mashed potatoes with gravy. The line cook forgot that, and received a firm tap on the front of the head.

"Pay better attention to the waiters and waitresses, they look bad if you screw up, got it?"

"Yes sir."

(226+322 = 548. 5 x 50 = 250)

[seishounohana]

Two. Percent.

That was her funding.

Two. Frickin'. Percent.

The next few months will indeed prove to be interesting.

Emily walked around the restaurant, as if trying to absorb the entire place in. After all it WAS her first day on the job... and if she were to make a decent advertisement of this place, then she better get aquainted with it as a whole. Emily liked to make ... somewhat, 'personal' touches on her work. Or at least give it her all.

She stood outside the building; not much of a signage... but that will have to be dealt with later. The service seems good, as there were loyal customers who seem to be enjoying the food inside. Having not been able to have any sort of German food, she figured it would be particuarly... difficult to actually get herself to advertise.

Her stomach growled. 'I could use something to eat...'

Ok. Enough with the hunger. Smile. SMILE YOU FREAK! Ok... calm down.

Sedatives..? CHECK.

Looks like she was all set for the day anyways.

The girl entered the building again, just to claim her place on the farthermost table near the employee's only door. Sadly, Emily still hadn't gotten any idea of what to do. Maybe for now she'll try to get a decent feel of Deutsche Küche before she gives it an image in adverising.

Well, one thing she can do to contribute was maybe put in some ... well advertisements on her manga? No. That would give a clue to her identity. NO THANKS.

For now, the best thing she can resort to would be Fliers... advertisments on Newspaper is actually a good alternative to TV adverisements, seeing as they were MUCH cheaper... and involved lesser manpower. Heck, she can make one herself.

BUT whatever she would do, it will always need an OK from Mr. I-AM-THE-MANAGER.

HEIL THE PROVIDER!

She sat there, watching the people eat, their reactions. Making random sketches and writing her impressions on a notepad. Well, she can't make an effective advertisement out of nowhere and bada-bing?! Heck, no.

Things that have to be settled.

Emily surely needed to get an interview from Unfettered himself, surely he'd be able to give her an idea of what kind of an impression he wanted people to have of HIS restaurant.

OBVIOUSLY IT WAS A GERMAN IMPRESSION.

... Still, it really does helps to be specific.

[409]

[Jenna Scorn]

She had found herself washing dishes, letting her hands slip into the water.
Finding a scrub brush and furiously scrubbing at those dishes.
This wasn't her job, but she found the need to do it.
Because no one was, and because she didn't want to be seen by Winter's.
Not now.

Calamity wasn't up for it, not yet.
She swallowed, letting a few strands of hair fall in her face.
She'd brush them away with the back of her hand, and she heard Valekin's voice.

"What?"

A soft sigh of relieve.
Letting her shoulders shrug for a moment.


"Did some guy out there grab your ass or something? Do I have to remove him?"

"No, no."

Calamity held a dish within her hand, scrubbing it clean of any food, eying it for a quick moment, now she's rinse it off. Holding the dish under the water and then toweling it dry, setting it aside with the rest.

"I...."

She trailed off, letting her tongue roll along her lower lip and then speaking. Finally finding her voice, letting her head glance over her shoulder, blue eyes glancing towards the kitchen doors and then shouting out towards Valekin.

"I just don't feel good, is it ok if I stay back here? And finish these dishes?"

She was a chicken, and a very foolish one at that. She didn't have the balls to speak to Johnathan, and thats why she wouldn't. She wouldn't even look at him, wouldn't let those blue eyes fall on the owner. The man who signed her checks, she'd sigh again, scrubbing at the dishes.

(283)

[valekin]

"I see.... you don't need to throw up or anything do you? Just... go ahead and stay back here a while and clean those... if you get sick just go to the bathroom or something. Just as long as you don't get sick on the clean stuff, alright?"

That's what he said, but it sounded more like a....

"Alright, just don't do something stupid, take care of yourself."

That's kinda how he held himself. Taking care of those he needed to take care of, and hurting those that just happened to be in his way. He wasn't the type to let anyone get in his way. He took out a pad of paper, and scribbled down a note stating that she was a tad ill.

Note: Employee Calamity reported feeling ill. She had requested to remain in the back and wash dishes as to not upset her digestive tract with all the movement. I granted her request, and gave her permission to take short breaks if she needed to blow chunks.

Not a very professional note mind you. But it worked coming from the Serb. It was documentation, that's all it was. Documentation helped the world go around, as it was the infallible proof that she did indeed was sick, and needed a break. This made sure that she didn't get into trouble, and that he didn't get into trouble. And that anyone that gave either of them trouble, would feel very stupid. He dated, and time stamped the note, and pocketed it.

With that done and out of the way, he walked out onto the restaurant floor and noticed someone walking around, looking at the place. He watched her, maybe she was an eccentric customer that needed to make sure the place was clean. Well... she'd find it rather spotless. He was meticulous before the place opened. Only patrons could possibly make the place a heap. But there hadn't been many accidents today, in fact.... he hadn't heard of any being reported at all. This was good. He watched the girl which he assumed was eccentric with meticulous attention. Perhaps she was scoping the place out for a nice spot to put a bomb?

(391+226+322 = 939. 9x5 = 450+75= $525 Total for month of August. [So Far.])

[seishounohana]

Emily found herself rather... well, unsatisfied. She had already made a hundred (exaggeration!) sketches/layouts for fliers. Well, despite the fact that all her sketches were actually pretty good, Emily was just particular about detail.

Then again, she reminded herself that she should't worry to much about the detail as long as it attracted people. Details would give the printing people a lot of problems - and seeing that she would be starting out with one-colour leaflet advertisments, she guessed that it would be just as good.

She would have to write her advertising proposal and hand it over to Unfettered for approval before she did anything else. Of course, things that needed money/funding need to go through the higher authorities. Seeing as Emily was actually pretty new, it was better off that she ask a person she actually was aquainted with.

She walked closer to Unfettered, noticing that he was actually... well... busy with a troublesome customer. Uh... maybe it was a better idea to just back off for a few minutes or until the tension tuned down a notch.

Once it did, Emily poked the older looking man by the shoulder and handed him two pieces of paper. One of them had the sketch of a well-crafted leaflet advertisment; another was a proposal.

"Am I allowed to suggest promos?" Emily said, running a hand through her hair.

There were several strands though that came off, she... debated on her head about throwing them to the ground. But thought of the people who would be cleaning, ok. It was best that she put it into her pocket.

She had a rather difficult time doing that though.

"10% off on whatever product you can give me? Hopefully anything that would attract students from the nearby schools." She proposed, "It's almost September, so I guess the teenager age bracket would be a nice set of people to put general focus on in advertising. If we can also ask the principal to allow us to give out leaflets within PHS 259, I guess it would be a good thing. What do you think?"

Right now, Emily was afraid of him saying no. After all, she did spend an hour and a half on trying to find something decent. She looked back and fourth on the menus, walked around the restaurant, surveyed a few rather happy customers and yeah.

[400?! ok... so... >.>

400 + 409 = 809
809 = 8 Hours
8 x $10 = $80 so far.]