Taste Test

Working at a bistro in Gangnam-gu had two quirks that didn’t need explanation: first, the money, obviously; and second, the frequency of being around Korea’s rich and famous. It’s even come to a point where seeing awarded drama actresses or show hosts was less interesting than seeing some more interesting figures come by: chaebol hierarchs, mid-level politicians, and the like.

Tonight, the bistro is restless; busy, but not packed. And as you wait a table of some tech company management, you’re called to the front to escort another set of customers.

“Hey, Table 27. You’re assigned to Ms. Kim and Ms. Bae.”

Those last names may be very vague at first glance, but you were all too familiar with this duo: K-pop royalty Jennie and Irene. This was not the first time you’ve breathed the same aromatic-filled air as them in this space, but in those times they had patronized the joint with different sets of guests. This would be the first time you spotted them together, much less served either of them.

Quickly adjusting your collar and trying to swallow the fanboy-sized lump in your throat, you met them at the receptionist’s area.

“Good evening, Ms. Bae, Ms. Kim. Please follow me to your table,” you say, rehearsed a thousand times by now. Nothing to freak out about.

The two are busy with their respective phones, but are noticeably missing their usual entourage of managers and bodyguards. As you led them to a more secluded, closed-off portion of the bistro, you catch them putting their phones away completely. You didn’t think idols could be autonomous to this degree, but you set aside the thought as you passed menus to them.

“There’s no need for that, dear, thank you,” Jennie said with a smile. “I’ll just have an espresso please.”

“Right away, miss. How about you, miss?”

“Do you have any teas? Just a pot of whatever you have tonight,” Irene replied.

You note their orders and headed to your station. The location of the console where you prepare the coffee is just close enough to catch their conversation, but a glass divider muted it enough that the clinking of spoons on ceramic distracted you away from it easily. Didn’t seem like anything particularly interesting though — both just seemed to be catching up from a break in their respective tour schedules.

You brought over their orders, with the usual pleasantries to exchange. “Is there anything else I can get you, miss?,” you asked.

“If you don’t mind me asking,” Irene chimed in, “are you new here? I don’t recall your face.”

“Actually, I’ve been working here for almost a year, miss, maybe almost two,” you respond. Staff normally aren’t supposed to talk to customers so casually, but you decided it wouldn’t hurt to do otherwise, being out of view from the rest of the crowd.

“You have quite the face,” Jennie remarked. “Why not anywhere else?”

You tried to charm your way out of an obligatory, potentially shameful monologue. “Well, short answer is, I do it for the money. Don’t we all?”

The two giggle, and inside you’re running a football victory lap for nailing a perfectly executed quip. You left them to it to attend to other tables, but you swore you caught them glancing at you time to time. They called you over a second time about thirty minutes later.

“Good evening again. Did you enjoy the drinks? Anything else I can get for you?,” you say.

“It was great,” Irene replied. “I don’t actually think I’ve tried the tea here. You have good taste. Oh, and yes, we would like some dessert as well.”

“Alright, what would you like?”

“How about you put that taste to the test and surprise us. We trust you,” Jennie butted in, with a little smirk. While you would normally be fawning over the gesture, you also felt a growing fear of embarrassing yourself. You swallow it down. “I think I have just the thing.”

You walked back slowly to the counter as you pondered on what the pair would like. After a few seconds, you had an idea: Jennie might like a light cream-based pastry, and Irene would probably prefer a sorbet or anything with fruit. You find the closest approximations in your menu and bring them over. To your relief, it seems you’ve delighted them once again.

“Spot on with the choices, I love it,” said Jennie. “How about you Joohyun, what’s your verdict?” Irene, however, seemed too busy savoring the treat. “Well, I guess that speaks for itself. Three points for you.”

“Thank you, miss. I do believe that’s all orders complete, anything else I can do for you?”

Irene, having finished her plate, replies, “How about the bill? We have some other plans tonight.”

“Certainly, miss. Just a moment.”

You overheard them bickering and exchanging whines and banter, probably fighting over who pays, as is custom. By now the bistro is taking its last set of customers, so the discussion isn’t as hard to catch. As you return, though, it seems an agreement had been settled on; you resolved to keep this interaction short to avoid getting told off.

“Here,” Irene said as she handed back the holder. “Please hand this to your manager, there’s special instructions for how to use the credit card in there. He’ll know how to handle it.”

“Of course miss. Thank you,” you replied, walking to the cashier.

A part of you felt a bit sad that your interaction with the two ended so briefly. Nonetheless, work is work, and you called your manager.

“Sajangnim, I was told to hand this payment to you.”

Your manager looked puzzled at first, but opened the receipt anyway, followed by a quick furrowing of brows. Was something wrong? You tried not to overthink it, considering he processed the payment hastily. He handed you back the receipt, with the same half-puzzled, half-concerned look. “Did you talk to the customers that much? Move to the front end when you’re done with this.”

Uh oh. Were you in trouble, for casual conversation no less? The struggle to not overthink is difficult at this point, but you have no choice but to stomp it down. As you reached the table, however, you noticed the pair are missing already.

Panicked, you rush to the front end to ask your colleagues, and it turns out they were just about to ride their car. You rushed out and call for them, hoping to return Irene’s credit card before you caused a nationwide scandal.

“Miss! Please don’t forget your credit card!,” you call out.

The next 10 seconds are a blur. You reached the vehicle right as Irene stepped in, and before you could try and call for her attention again, a cold hand grabbed your wrist and pulled you into the van. It took even longer to process the situation, now that you were seated in the black van, facing Irene and Jennie.

“I’ll be taking that,” Irene said, breaking the silence and swiping the credit card you were still holding in your hand. “You’ve been such a wonderful server tonight.”

“That’s why you’re here with us,” Jennie added. “Don’t worry, your manager already knows. The whole credit card thing was a lie.”

“Hey, it wasn’t a complete lie. It’s still a special credit card that I absolutely cannot afford to lose,” Irene interjected. “Good thing we had you, right?” The two started teasing each other, a dead giveaway of the orchestration of it all.

“Relax. Consider this an early clock out,” Jennie reassured. “Because you’ve been such nice company tonight, we have one last series of tests for you.”

“How exactly is kidnapping me and testing me an act of gratitude?,” you blurted. The shock started to subside, allowing you to piece a few more things together, at least without thinking too highly of yourself.

“I mean, would you like us to leave you back in there? You could go back to waiting tables, that’s fine with us. But,” Jennie paused, placing a hand on your shoulder and leaning in a bit closer, “where’s the fun in that?”

You paused with her, looking straight into both idols’ eyes for a few seconds. Their looks seemed as sincere as their words.

“Well, if you trusted me,” you sighed without hesitation, “I’ll trust you as well. Please take care of me.”

Irene claps her hands before pulling out a black cloth. “I like how you think,” she added, “let’s start with this.”

Blindfolded, your ears are a little more sensitive than normal. In the 15 minutes you gave up your sense of sight, you got off the car, were escorted slowly and carefully by the duo across a bunch of corridors, and brought to what sounded like a medium-sized room (on account of how much their giggles seemed to fill the space easily).

You try to gauge your surroundings. “Any chance this blindfold is coming off soon?,” you asked.

Someone put their finger over your lips, replying, “Shh. Don’t think about that just yet.” The voice was a bit higher in pitch, maybe that was Irene? Seemed likely.

“So, are you ready for our little game?,” a deeper voice asked. That must be Jennie then. “We’re not gonna stop you from saying no.” The aforementioned sensitive hearing was most obvious as you felt two different breaths whistle from each side of your face.

Nervously, you tried to crack a joke. “Hey, as long as neither of you are secretly serial killers, I think I’ll be fine.”