Stumbling along from one waitress job to another since high school, I seem destined to be stuck in the service of others. For the past two years of college, it’s been Libby’s Diner that’s been my purgatory. The money’s poor, but I do make a few extra bucks on the infrequent tips. The average tipper in Libby’s Diner sure as fuck had nothing to do with coining the phrase ‘It’s better to give than to receive’. That I know.
Libby’s is a small one room diner pigeon-holed between two, three story buildings in the older section of downtown. The developers either miscalculated on their measurements, there was a land dispute about an Indian burial ground, or perhaps someone just wanted a cork in the narrow alley between the larger buildings. Whatever the reason, this spit of property came to be home to the diner. Despite the rather dated and disheveled exterior, Libby’s is actually a bright and very respectable little eating establishment once you’re through the front door. Although my personal feelings toward the owner border on homicidal, the food’s good.
Lately our regulars have been the construction crew working on a high-rise refurbishment just across the street. They’re an archetypical construction crew that whistles and catcalls to every passing woman under the age of eighty, and of course they have no qualms at all about making lewd remarks about either my breasts or my ass. I don’t actually mind though, as I enjoy the company of a room-full of boisterous men. I’d never admit it to them though. Besides, with a little flirt here and there, mixed with a few appropriately timed wiggles, the tips roll in from this crowd. I’d give them some cleavage too, but I couldn’t muster that with both hands pressing with all my might. It’s ok though; the wiggles seem to work almost as well.
“Miriam would you quit daydreaming!” my boss Constantine hisses. “Try and earn your wages just for once!”
Constantine Capriaza, now he’s a true prick if one ever walked the earth. His short and rake-thin stature doesn’t seem capable of backing up his constantly sharp barbs, and I like to think his personality is the result of a ‘little dick’ complex. I pray I never have occasion to find out either. A little shiver of disgust ripples through me as a very disturbing visual of a greasy, and very naked, Constantine wheels though my thoughts.
I’m desperate for some sort of diversion from Constantine’s incessant nattering and the construction foreman’s blatant ogling of my ass, when in it walks, a diversion of monumental proportions. He’s the best looking guy to frequent this diner in ages.
“Today Miriam…today!” Constantine snaps as I glare at him and follow the handsome guy to table nine, the farthest from the door and the only one free. If I didn’t need money for college, I’d tell Constantine to shove this job straight up his ass and march right out the front door. Since I can’t afford that, I settle for simply swearing under my breath. I’m still cursing the ground Constantine walks on as I arrive at the table.
My mood suddenly brightens the moment I look into those dreamy hazel eyes. Catching myself before it appears I’m outright gawking, I say, “Morning sir, can I get you anything to start?” as I place a menu before him.
He’s wearing a slate-gray sports jacket, and a pale blue shirt lacking the almost perfunctory tie. I like his business-casual look, and also his smile. It’s been a while since any customer here has ever done anything but leer. This guys is looking me right in the eye, and without so much a quick peek anywhere below my chin. Given his dashing looks, I’m almost disappointed.
“Yes…coffee would be excellent, and I’ll have that breakfast special you have advertised, with bacon and scrambled eggs.”
“Umm…good choice on the scrambled eggs, but I recommend the ham,” I whisper to him as I lean closer. “The bacon is beyond crisp this morning, if you know what I mean.”
“Thanks for the tip,” he smiles back. “Sounds to me you should consider a better cook?”
“Our regular chef was a no-show this morning, so my boss is filling in, and he’s not all that great,” I giggle. “But since he’s my boss, don’t tell him I said so.”
“It’s our little secret Miriam,” he whispers back, reading my name tag fastened just below my collar.
“That coffee’s coming right up sir.”
I make a pass around the diner with the pot as I bring the guy at table nine his coffee. Thankfully most of the construction workers are almost late for work at the hi-rise, and they’re clearing out fast. At least I’ll have a few hours of peace and quiet until I’ll have to again wade through testosterone and innuendo when they flood the place for lunch. It’ll give me some time to concentrate on ogling the guy at table nine too. He’s gorgeous.
As I collect the bill from the last stragglers on the construction crew, Constantine barks, “Order up for nine!”
“Thank you Miriam,” the gentleman replies as I set the platter of ham and eggs in front of him and freshen his coffee.
I’m so mesmerized by those eyes and that smile I almost forget to thank him. I’m all aflutter inside, and I can’t think straight as I move away from the table. It’s been ages since a guy had such an immediate effect, and I like it.
I busy myself with clearing and cleaning the counter and tables. I pile the dishes in a bus cart and roll it into the tiny kitchen where another employee has just arrived. Ralph works part time as a dishwasher, and he’s a major distraction for Constantine. Being even lower on the food chain and far closer in proximity to Constantine, he’s the brunt of the wrath and frustrations that plague the kitchen this morning. Poor bastard.
I pour myself a coffee and amble down to the end of the counter and sit down at a stool just opposite table nine. I kind of lean and allow my butt to slightly hang over the seat of the stool, hoping the handsome stranger will notice. I’m on my third sip when I hear an “Excuse me”.
“Yes sir, can I get you anything?” I ask as I spin the stool to face him.
“No, I’m fine. I was just wondering if we’ve ever met before? You look very familiar.”
I know he hasn’t seen my ass before, so I take it as a simple pick-up line.
“Uh, I don’t think so, no,” I reply. “Not that I can recall.” I know damn well I’d remember this guy no matter how long ago it was.
“I’d swear I’ve seen you somewhere, the university perhaps?”
“Well I’m taking classes there in the afternoons and evenings, perhaps that’s where you’ve seen me. Are you a student?”
“Me, no. I work in the administration department. One of the infamous bean-counters that are forever trying to increase tuitions.”
“Oh so you’re one of those huh,” I laugh. “You’re not too popular with a lot of students’ right at the moment.”
“I know,” he grins. “But it’s the best we can do with the cost of everything is getting to be almost unmanageable.”
“Tell me about it,” I reply. “That’s what keeps me slugging it out here. I need the money.”
“Miriam. I need a hand here!” Constantine yells from the kitchen, not bothering to even stick his head out the small window where we pass through the orders, instead choosing to bellow at the top of his lungs. “And sometime today would be good!”
“Isn’t he a sweetheart?” I laugh as I walk slowly to the kitchen, knowing that every second that passes will enrage Constantine further, and I do love to yank his chain at every opportunity.
“They just delivered the meat for tomorrow’s specials, and I need you and Ralph to stack them in the cooler. Now get at it!”
Ralph meekly turns toward the door leading to the narrow delivery dock out back. I give Constantine a spiteful look before turning on my heels and following Ralph. Constantine hates it when I question anything about his authority.
