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Uncustomary

C. D. Wight

    I cheered “Ganbarou!” with the other crisply-uniformed girls and finished up the company ritual to start another morning shift at Trendy’s Café. We all smiled and took our places; but nervousness welled up inside me. Today marked my first day of training at the cash register position, and soon hurried Tokyo commuters would be lined up for a coffee, eager to be on their way.
    Luckily my trainer was hawk-faced Yuko, winner of the most employee star awards and champion of order and cleanliness in the café. Her hair was always bound in the tightest bun. The other girls mocked her supreme effort, but I held the highest regard for her at work.
    The first hour was uneventful. Yuko supervised as I took orders and dispensed change.
    The morning rush hit us, and some difficult customers appeared: a blind old lady, a socially-awkward salary-man, and, looming further back in the line, an arrogant-looking foreigner who probably did not care about our customs. We tolerated the stress well until Miho forgot to brew another batch of Royal Roast. Customers were delayed. My smile felt strained, but Yuko encouraged me.
    In all the confusion Kanako dropped a plate of heated quiche, shattering my nerves and leaving a mess of mushy egg and broken porcelain behind the counter.
    Next the foreigner approached the register to pay. He impatiently slapped down coins for a canned beverage.
    His change was one yen but when the register drawer opened I almost cried - the one-yen coin tray was empty. I scrambled to break open another roll but by then it was too late: the foreigner turned and rushed for the door without taking his money!
    A customer in line yelled, “Hey!” to the foreigner but his call was ignored.
    It seemed that the arrogant man would get away with ignoring our custom of waiting for proper change after a cash transaction, but then something most unexpected happened: Yuko reached over, took the one yen from my open palm, dashed out from behind the counter, slipped through the crowd, and ran out the door, one arm extended, that single gram of aluminum pinched between two fingers.
    I gasped and stood helpless. Employees were forbidden to leave without permission.
    The entire café noticed the incident and all eyes turned to the door.
    Yuko returned moments later, her task completed.
    I was embarrassed for her, and ashamed of my rookie cashier mistake that had made her react.
    But the crowd seemed unbothered - even respectful.
    Yuko bowed politely and took her place with me at the register. She would not win star employee this month, but it was okay. We were all reminded that the customs of our people were more important than following rules of the café.

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