That “workaholic”

Going upstairs, we stepped into Tapatapa, a Spanish restaurant known for its classical Paella.

There’s nothing more appealing than its cozy atmosphere. Amidst the chitchats, every space is filled with warming light bulbs, pine trees, and gleaming decorations, soft cushions lying on the wooden chair.

“Hi! I’m Kevin, the manager here. Table for two?”

The greeting was done in his glimmer of a smile, corresponding with the warmth of the surroundings. We followed him to enter the restaurant and ordered.

The facade of Tapatapa

“Is everything good?”

That voice, tinged with a glimmer of grin, appeared again, right when I swallowed the last bit of the cheese basque cake.

“Every dish is absolute perfection… I’ll come back with my other friends,” my friend replied with full satisfaction, “for sure.”

“You’re surely not the first one to fall in love with the cake… but still such a pleasure to hear this…”

I laughed, still recalling the mellow taste of the cheese; “I can hear the wind roaring out there… would you have time for a drink?” He hesitated for a second and nodded, in a smile with shyness, “let me just talk to my colleagues- be right back!”

Kevin came back and guided us to a small table, right next to the window, where a single candle flickered between us, the trembling light carving soft shadows through the dim, yellow lights of the surrounding.

“I’m from the northeastern part, Liaoning,” he said, almost shyly, “I only go back once a year, during the Chinese New Year… I can’t wait to see my family members, but it’s just a dilemma for me… If I were to go to my hometown for work, I wouldn’t earn that much.” There was a slight nostalgia in his voice, the kind that comes from living far from home.

“I see… do you love your job- even though you’re separated from your loved ones?”

He spoke easily, “honestly, yes, and especially because I’m an extroverted person. Of course, working in the food & beverage industry as a manager is busy, but also interesting. You meet people with different tempers, different moods, from all walks of life,” Kevin’s eyes glimmered as he recalled that special moment. “A few months ago, someone proposed,” he pointed to a softly lit pillar at the corner, “right over there.”

“Wow!”

“The guy brought some roses and a small band with three people... he shouted ‘marry me’ so loudly everyone in here paused and congratulated them.” Kevin laughed, “Moments like that make you love this job.”

I saw a smile on my friend’s face, touched by this lovely, heartwarming story. People chatted in murmurs; laughter rose and fell beneath dim amber bulbs. Outside on the streets, winter pressed against the glass, but inside the room felt gently suspended.

“I like chatting. Chatting makes those long, exhausting nights easier; sometimes being a manager on your own gets lonely, but when I get chances to talk to a customer who clicks with me, I feel much better.”

My curiosity was sparked, “Would you keep long-term bonds with the guests who click with you? Or do you rather prefer encountering more…”

“Oh, people just come and go, so I don’t really connect with them that deeply. But those moments were enough, really, and I’m already super grateful,” that glimmer of a smile came on his face again.

As the jazz music in the back hummed quietly and the candle swayed, he told us he once dreamed of being a chef. “I watched cooking shows as a kid. Thought chefs were the coolest. But I ended up in the front instead—and found a different kind of joy.”

Kevin then tells us that more often, he works until 1 or 3 am in the morning, “you know, people lose track of time when they’re with their friends,” he said, amused.“But Shanghai’s nights are worth it. When you step outside after work, the city still feels awake.”

When I asked about his favorite drink, he brightened. “Our signature: Workaholic. First sip is sweet, but the aftertaste is strong.” He smiled. “Kind of like me. I seem laid-back, but I take work seriously.”

“I feel that from you… Absolutely a workaholic,” I laughed, “but not as rigid and boring as all the others!”

The restaurant softened into its late-night haze; Kevin spoke quietly about what he wanted next. “A job where I can meet more people. Everyone has their own spark. Their stories make the work meaningful.”

The candle shrank into a faint, steady glow. Around us, conversations murmured on, but his words lingered—small reminders of how brief encounters can still leave warmth behind.