The lunchtime rush finally subsided. Most of the customers left, leaving behind dirty tables and welcome silence.
Mr. Kim came into the kitchen, looking tired. He grabbed a bottle of water and took a large gulp.
"Good job, kid," he said. "We handled it well."
He looked at me. "And thanks. For letting it go, earlier."
"He didn't deserve it," I said, cleaning the griddle.
"I know," said Mr. Kim. "But sometimes, you have to pick your battles. This restaurant is all I have. I can't afford to have problems with the soldiers from the base."
He sighed. "It's not always fair. But that's life."
We worked in silence for a while.
Then, the bell on the front door rang.
"I'll get it," said Mr. Kim.
I heard him greet the customer. His voice was polite, as usual.
Then, his tone changed. It became tense.