He stood there, waiting for the server to return with his card. "How's your night going?" he asked. "Okay, kind of slow, though" I answered. We hadn't quite hit our prime time yet and the crowd was a little light. "How's yours going?" I asked for lack of anything else. "Pretty good. I'm out with this girl, it's our fourth date. Things are looking good. I was single for six years before her." Six? Is that all? Don't talk numbers with me kid, I'll make you cry. Poor, desperate sap. It was tempting to try to pass on some advice, but they never listen. "Good luck with that" I told him, why spoil his night, he'll have plenty of shit nights spent in bars soon enough. "Thanks" he said as the server returned with the card.
I was distracted momentarily by the servers shorts as she started making the rounds through her section. I didn't see the kid and his mystery date leave. Oh well, I've seen young love in action before and probably will again before closing time. The best you can hope for is that you don't get one that wants to twist the knife after she sinks it into your gut. Couldn't help but entertain a quick thought about what kind of person the server turned into after the fact. Was she a knife twister? Probably. She is the text book definition of feminine beauty but as Robert Palmer told us, a pretty face don't make no pretty heart. We talk about literature to pass the time at work, why spoil a good thing?
The crowd picked up some. Only had to deal with one drunk person and that didn't even require speaking. The guy staggered into me and I grabbed him to steady him. His buddy's came over to lead him back to the table and apologized profusely for his behavior. He sat down while they slammed their drinks. They picked up their friend and walked out the door in to the great American night. It was a fairly uneventful night but at least I got to see my friends from Lost Wax.
No comments:
Post a Comment