Man Is Fired for Delivering Food to Disabled Woman, Sees Her Photo in Boss’ Office and The Unexpected Took Place

Justin Gordon came back from his last delivery late. By the time he let himself into the restaurant, everyone else was long gone, the kitchen was clean and empty, and the lights were off. Just inside, he knew the manager, Mr. Kelsey, was gonna complain yet again that he was late and he should have been quicker on his deliveries. This was Justin’s first job, and he was doing his best.

He went to the lockers and was changing his clothes when the restaurant’s landline rang. Justin hesitated; he wasn’t supposed to answer the phone, but it could be his boss, Mr. Kelsey. So he picked up the phone and said, “Gourmet goulash, may I help you?”

“Hello,” said a woman’s voice on the other side. “I’m so glad you’re still open. I wanted to order some dinner.”

“Oh,” said Justin, “I’m so sorry, ma’am, but the kitchen is closed.”

“Couldn’t you make an exception?” the woman asked. “I just arrived from a long trip, and I have no food in the house. I was really looking forward to some of your chicken paprikash with the yogurt and coriander salad.”

Justin hesitated for a moment, then he said, “Ma’am, we’d be happy to oblige an old customer.” He wrote the woman’s name down and her address and headed for the kitchen.

Fortunately, Justin was an excellent cook. In fact, his dream was to become a chef. But since his father had died, he and his mother had been struggling to make ends meet, and he couldn’t afford to enter the expensive Culinary Academy.

Justin quickly had the pots simmering and bubbling away when he started chopping up the coriander, mint, and cucumber for the yogurt salad. As soon as the food was ready, he dished it out into the appropriate containers. He wouldn’t have time to clean up the kitchen if he was to deliver the food quickly, but he decided to come into work extra early the next morning.

He hopped onto his motorbike and headed for the customer’s address. When he rang the doorbell, he was surprised to see a woman in a wheelchair answering the door.

“Good evening,” Justin said, “special delivery from Gourmet goulash.”

The woman was delighted. “Thank you! Hold on a moment, and I’ll get my purse,” she cried.

“It’s all right, ma’am,” Justin said. “It’s on the house. Hope you enjoy your meal.”

Early the next morning, Justin was at the restaurant, and the first thing he did was to pay the cost of the woman’s meal into the till. And he started cleaning up the kitchen. He was nearly finished when Mr. Kelso walked in.

“What do you think you’re doing?” he screamed. “You’re not allowed in the kitchen unless it’s to pick up deliveries!”

Justin blushed and explained, “A customer called last night and asked for chicken paprikash, so I made some.”

“You made some?” Kelso screeched, enraged. “You’re not the chef! You violated every rule in the book! You’re fired! Clean out your locker and come back tomorrow to pick up your check.”

Justin was close to tears; he needed this job badly, but he knew that he had broken the rules. There was nothing he could say. He went to his locker and got his personal things. He was going to have to tell his mom he lost his job.

The next morning, he came to the restaurant for his pay. He went to Mr. Kelso’s office and knocked on the door before he walked in. He stood by the desk while Mr. Kelso wrote out his check and ranted at him.

“I can just imagine the health code violations, and the food was probably terrible. We lost the customer for sure,” he said angrily.

“But sir, I just wanted to help the lady,” Justin tried to explain.

“She said she was irregular; I thought it was important.”

“I don’t care if she was the president!” Kelso screamed. “I pay the rent and electricity! I’m the one who decides who’s important.”

That was when Justin noticed a portrait of a woman on Mr. Kelso’s desk. It was the lady he delivered the dinner to. Why would that nice woman’s photo be on the nasty Mr. Kelso’s desk? What could the connection possibly be? He was about to say something when Mr. Kelso threw the check at him.

“Get out and never come back.”

Alan Kelsey was furious; his mind was full of the dreadful consequences that could have followed Justin’s breach of protocol. That evening, when he went to dinner, his mother, as he told her all about it, exclaimed, “What an irresponsible boy! Turn on the burners, he handled food! He said he could have created a dozen problems for me, and he left the kitchen in chaos! Goodness!”

His mother cast a glance. “Why did he do that?”

“Some woman phoned in an order after hours,” Alan explained, “and instead of telling her the kitchen was closed, he thought he’d be Sir Galahad on a scootery skunk. Can you believe it?”

“Yes,” his mother said, and wheeled herself away from the table, “and he was very sweet and charming too!”

“Excuse me?” Alan was baffled.

“I phoned him, Alan, Mrs. Kelso’s son. I came home from my trip, and there was no food in the house, even though I’d asked you to do some shopping for me.”

Kelso blushed. “I’m sorry, Mom, I had a dinner party, I forgot,” he confessed.

“While I was hungry!” Mrs. Kelso said. “So, I placed an order, even though I knew the kitchen was closed. I wanted to know if you still held to the same customer service tradition that your father and I found at that restaurant, and the young man you fired not only showed the kind spirit I admire, but the food he delivered was also delicious, a lot better than what your current chef cooks.”

Alan was confounded. “Really? I had no idea.”

“And you know what,” Mrs. Kelso said, “he wouldn’t let me pay for dinner. He said it was on the house.”

“I think you should take that boy back quickly, unless you want me to fire you, Alan.”

Justin was stunned to see his former boss on his doorstep the next day. “Justin,” Alan said, “I’m here to invite you and your mother to lunch at Gourmet goulash today and to give you your job back.”

That day, Alan, Mrs. Kelso, Justin, and his mother had a lovely lunch. Then, Mrs. Kelso asked Justin, “Where did you learn to cook like that?”

“My father was a chef,” Justin explained, “before he died. I was gonna study to become one too.”

“Well,” Mrs. Kelso smiled, “I loved the food you cooked for me, and Gourmet goulash is taking you back as a part-time assistant chef on the weekends.”

“Part-time?” Justin was bewildered.

“I thought it has to be part-time,” exclaimed Mrs. Kelso, “you’ll be too busy!”