Preface to Xiao Chen Story

The elevator goes from the first floor to the fourth floor, and I walk with two women, each holding a naughty child. In less than twenty seconds, in the conversation between two young women, except for his (her) parents, there were some swear words strung together by male and female reproductive organs.

Those two children are babbling, and their childish voices are full of foul words.

I have been working in the hotel for more than ten years, and this situation is common. I told the chef what happened just now. I said I didn't want to do it. He gave us a "melodramatic" and asked us one by one, "What are you doing when you quit?" Don't want to write an article, you won't. "

The chef often comments on me like this. He says, "Zhang Xiaolin can't write any articles at all, but she complains when she is stimulated. This complaint is long, short and angry. She went to drink in the middle, and her painting style changed when she came back. If she is not allowed to write, she will suppress internal injuries."

I am very satisfied with this comment. I really can't write an article, and my endless words are only because I am stimulated. I abuse the immorality of human nature from the perspective of women, write about my lover from the perspective of being loved, miss my father from the perspective of my daughter, admire my brother from the perspective of my sister, and care for my son from the perspective of my mother. Other people's words are generate after reading a lot of poetry books, but my words are only because of the death of a father, the birth of a son, a divorce, a job and a love for someone. I don't know the truth, I don't know the structure of words, and my only vocabulary is learned from watching TV plays. But I never lack excitement around me. I used to be stimulated by knives and dead people. Now dogs and cats can also stimulate me. The woman in the elevator just now also stimulated me.

I love catering very much. My ex-husband once asked me "When do you want to work or have a family?" I told him "I want to work" without even thinking for a second, but now I have put him and catering work down, just like when I got married for the first time, I copied the wedding vows for 999 times ... I will carry out these words throughout my life. The fact that I copied them 999 times doesn't affect that I can't recite them now. It can be seen that swearing, like lightning, was a fire at that time, and I don't know how long I can persist in this writing.

Catering is a place where fish and eyes are mixed. I don't get along well there. For one thing, I don't love money. For another thing, I can't bend over. I'm even lofty, which is what people often say: "My heart is higher than the sky and my life is thinner than paper". If it weren't for family of origin's poverty and the failure of his first marriage, I would have quit long ago. For fifteen years, except for illness, I hardly took a day off. My whole life was sold to work. Besides work, I have no friends or family. Keeping company with words is my only pastime. The income from this job gives me the courage to scold the street, the name of a strong woman, and the melodramatic feeling of being full.

in the past fifteen years, I thought that I would definitely gain more if I worked hard, but what I gained was my endless material desire and increasingly smelly reputation. Money and fame are rising, and a divorced catering woman, in the eyes of those "ladies", it doesn't matter whether you said or did anything. What matters is that you are divorced and you are cooking, and they think you are self-indulgent.

Catering needs to stay up all year round. I suffer from severe insomnia. My hair falls off one by one. The same rubber band used to tie my hair in two turns, but now it needs four turns. Plus, I often drink alcohol, which makes my stomach go wrong. The more I do, the more tired I get. I have reflected on the reason why I can't get respect from others. It's not that they are wrong, nor that I am wrong, but that the catering in our small place is a smoky and haunted place, and I stayed there and was shrouded by that kind of bad luck.

The ghosts here are not those unclean ghosts that we can't see, but "drunkards", "lechers" and "gamblers", who are living people who do nothing.

"Alcoholic" is a variety of people. When people see him, they want to avoid him for eight or ten meters, but we can't avoid him. He may scold your ancestors for drinking, or take the opportunity to be rude to you, or even drag you to get a room. But he was drunk, and at dawn, his "sorry" explained everything. What about you? It has become a joke in people's eyes. You are scolded because you have no eyesight, and you are teased because you are not a good person at ordinary times to seduce him. At this time, beauty is a sin.

One kind of "goat" is a combination of drunkards, and the other one is born with shame. Drunks are fine, and they only become guilty after drinking. What they are most afraid of is the man who is born with shame. He is always in full bloom with his animal nature. I remember that a guest named Xu was worse than a pig and a dog. Many waiters were trying to bring him tea, so he reached under the girl's skirt and walked in the corridor. It's a shame to say such a thing, so I can only pay more attention to it when I see it next time. I remember that once she was stomped on by our supervisor wearing high heels, and finally he skipped on one leg. Since then, as long as he came to dinner, my colleagues have quickly borrowed a pair of high heels to wear. The waiters in the restaurant generally don't have high heels, so everyone borrowed them from the usher on the first floor. The hostess wears an ankle-length cheongsam, and when she walks with flat shoes, the skirt of the cheongsam becomes a burden, either before or after stepping on it. There are often receptionists who fall down inexplicably on the way to walk with the guests, and then quickly stand up and rub their elbows to continue their work. One guest jokingly said, "It's not a year, it's not a festival, wearing red Dandan clothes, and giving gifts when you enter the door. It's really a god to treat the customers." He doesn't know our helplessness, he only knows that he is God who can afford this worship.

"Gamblers" are relatively a gentleman's profession in the eyes of our service personnel. They win their own money and lose their own, which has nothing to do with us. However, this kind of people are particularly generous when they win money, and they have to pay for their meals on credit when they lose money. If you don't, they will be annoyed and will talk about how to take care of you in the past, but if you do, it is estimated that he will never come again, regardless of the money. I have many colleagues in this line of work.

I'm ashamed to say that Otawa, a female colleague in this line, came here just like me to make money. The salary here is high, and there is no technical content, and there is also a lot of room for promotion. I call us "paupers" collectively. Why are we paupers and why are we here? Everyone has a necessity behind them. Women in small towns don't have to have a job. Most people come because they are really short of money. Why lack of money? Because parents divorced, nobody took care of them, because her husband died to support a family, because her husband took drugs, he lost the family pillar, because men gambled and lost everything, and had to come out to support their families. Eight of the ten female colleagues were pitiful, and of course some of them were looking for a job to amuse themselves.

in 2121, I really bid farewell to the hotel catering work that I have been engaged in for fifteen years. Someone asked me, are you willing? I said that I am willing to give up, and I found something that makes me happier than dry catering. Although my poor writing can't make any sense, there shouldn't be many readers at the current level, but when will it be ready?

Let's go back to my chef friend. After the work stops, I will discuss with him what I should write. He said, "You have worked for so many years, and the stimulation you have received is a good book. Why don't you write it for more people to know?" I thought, yes, many people don't know about people in our industry, and no one has dug deep into this profession. Why don't I write it? In my mind, Mei Ling, who smoked, Sister Ping, who was abused by domestic violence, and Impatient Impatiens, who can't read ... < P > I want to tell more people their stories, and I want to avenge my hotel sisters. My words are not gorgeous, and stories often have their own emotional color. After I finished writing, I named it Hotel Story, but I think that all the people here are not from hotels, or some of them have nothing to do with hotels, and they just love the next restaurant, or I know it, but I am just a hotel person, so I changed it into Xiaochen Story, Xiaochen Story and Dust Story that Xiaolin knows.

Zhang Xiaolin in May 2121, written in Wuzhai.