"Henceforth I shall be waiting for Thursday night no longer!" Peter declared in a loud voice. "And I'll curse any man, woman, or child that gets in my way tonight! Cutting me off during transit! Separating me from my chicken dinner! Distracting me from the beauteous wait staff! These are just some of the crimes that will be met with God-like vengeance should they occur." A strike of his hand on the counter demonstrated for him though he hid the pain it gave him for the display.
"You do realize that we're lapsed Catholics, right? We don't do much of anything dealing with religion, let alone casting spells or depositing the evil eye on people's heads." Christopher stopped sweeping long enough to give a glance to size up his twin. "And I never knew you were such a drama queen..."
With an insuppressible snort, Peter grabbed his jacket. "I guess this means you're not going to wish me luck."
"Never said that." After some consideration, his bigger brother responded, "Good luck. Just don't get your hopes too high."
"Too high? Since when do I aim too high?"
"Sorry, Pete -- you know I've got to save some witty retorts for the customers. Get your sorry ass out of here."
Peter didn't need to be told twice.
***
She could have sworn her back was only turned for a second... but when Julie turned around there was another customer in her section, almost hiding behind the menu. The last possible second for one, but Julie couldn't help but take the person on. It was only twenty minutes before her shift ended. Who was she to begrudge a gratuity?
"Hey, what can I get you?"
The self-same eyes that had drifted through her sketches bored through her over the menu. "Anything you'd recommend?"
Julie felt glued to the spot yet strangely unable to speak. "Uh... Iβ"
"I hear the Special is especially good..."
This she knew -- she could get that. "Yes, it's chicken a la king. What would you like to drink?"
"How about a nice '91 Merlot?"