Reaching down into my cumbersome apron, I retrieved the wadded up piece of paper towel I had stored in there since the beginning of my lunch shift. I wiped the fresh layer of sweat from my brow and tossed a couple of stray hairs off to the side as I punched in yet another order for Pad Thai that was to be made for the regular with the gluten allergy.
With the mixture of sweat and food residue gathered on my hands, I quickly headed to the nearby sink to wash my hands. As I dutifully lathered my hands, I looked up into the mirror that was glued to the wall behind the fixture.
At twenty-three I had thought that I wouldn't still be waiting tables, but here I was working at the same Thai Restaurant that I had been for years. Sure, the business was fine, and the clientele could be worse, but I thought I would be sitting on my ass, or, at least wearing a tie. I hadn't thought of this often, as the free food that came with every shift kept me quite pleased.
I looked reasonably good today, my shaggy brown hair wasn't wild as much as it was stylish, and I had trimmed my sideburns and full goatee correctly during the haze of my early morning rituals. My tall form was in decent enough shape due to my love for playing basketball in the park.
With the food ticket printed out and hanging loosely towards the stainless steel counter, I quickly gathered it and slid through the swinging doors that lead in to the kitchen. Diving underneath the expo counter to gather Styrofoam boxes was my coworker and roommate Hunter.
He was a short, stout, and energetic young man of twenty-four. He failed to have the same hair issues as I had, preferring to keep his light brown hair buzzed down to just a fraction of an inch.
"We've got another Pad Thai," I announced to both our chef and Hunter before I slid the ticket in amongst the others in the queue.
"It's Pad Thai Friday!" yelled Hunter from his crouch, turning his head to the side, his light brown eyes beaming in mock enthusiasm.
"Pad Thai Friday!" I exclaimed back to him, part of me genuinely remembering that we always ate Pad Thai after our Friday shifts.
Heading back into the dining room, I surveyed the busy surroundings. We worked as a team, Hunter and I did. We both took full responsibility for all tables. Seeing that a table of three women had their beverages and looked ready enough to order, I quickly strode over, pulling my pen and check book from my apron.
I admit that Hunter and I did make comments behind the back of certain customers. The vast majority of them were made about attractive female guests. Also, a vast majority of those women were at least ten years older than us. I always blamed "American Pie" for this phenomenon amongst us younger men.
As I approached the table, I fully realized that these women entirely fit the requirements for topics of conversation on the ride out of work. In fact, two of them had already been talked about in the past. The third I had never seen before. After a while, faces run together, so it was rare for me to be so matter of fact about this.
They had seen me coming, and readied for my arrival. One of our regulars, smiling, laid her head to the side and said a quick word to the new girl. When I reached them, their hands had fallen down to their menus, and their eyes were locked onto mine, whitened teeth shining brightly upon my appearance.
"Are we all set to order, ladies?" I asked, a polite smile expertly washing over the table.
"Yes!" they said back to me enthusiastically, almost completely in time with each other.
Next came the awkward two second pause needed to find out who wanted to place their order first. Quickly, we started at one end of the table, working our way over to the rookie. I was disappointed to jot down an order for a standard fried rice dish from a brunette woman with brown eyes. The word "wimp" flashed across my mind before I moved on to the curry order of the bustier brunette seating to the left. I noticed through the expression on her face that the newbie needed some questions answered.
"This is my first time having Thai food, Daniel," she said, her deep blue eyes quickly focusing on the name tag pinned to my apron, just above my heart. "What would you recommend?" she asked, her head cocking slightly towards her shoulder and her thin, delicate fingers toying with the luxurious blonde curls of her hair that easily cascaded past her shoulders.
"Do you think you're more of a fried rice or noodles person?" I asked, my pen lightly tapping to either side of the book as I asked the question.
After an instant of deliberation, she answered, "Noodles," with her hand sawing into the air with confidence.
She must have noticed her animated gesturing, as her eyes rose back to mine with a nervous smile. My eyes quickly joined with hers. They had been drawn lower to her chest, as her gesture had pulled the fabric of her blue, buttoned down blouse taught, her hidden bosom coming more into view.
I felt a twinge of embarrassment at being caught after such an innocent glance.
I took my time with her, directing her through our maze of lunch items. I stood over her and off to the side of her chair as I described each dish. I fought myself hard not to look down the top of her blouse, where I would receive a teasing peak at her flesh. She then made her choice.
"That's one of my favorites," I mentioned to her as my hand scribbled into my paper. "How spicy would you like that, today?" I asked.
"I like it really spicy. How spicy can you make it?" she asked, putting emphasis on the word "really". I admired that quality in a woman.
"Honestly, as long as you give us a number, we'll make it happen," I answered back, being genuine.
"How spicy do you order it for yourself?" she then asked back quickly.
In a display of playfully mocking masculinity, my chest slightly puffed out.
I answered, "Well, I can handle more than most. Since level three is the normal high, I usually brave a level four." I then broke my pose and chuckled along with the table. Discussing heat levels with tables was one of my favored humorous interactions.
After agreeing to match my own spice preference, I finished her order and gathered up the menus.
As I turned to walk away, I heard her say with volume, "I'm counting on you, Danny Boy," she said through a smile.
"I won't let you down, ma'am," I called back, an earnest smile shining through my face. I enjoyed such pleasant customers.
"See, I told you he's nice and cute," I thought I heard one of them say. I might have been mistaken due to the ambiance of the restaurant.
After returning to the server's station, I walked right passed Hunter. He turned on his heels and looked at me. Through the corner of my eye, I found him dumbfounded. Right as I was going to put the order into the machine, he interrupted my train of thought.
"You didn't notice that, did you?" he asked, arms crossed over his broad chest.
"Notice, what?" I answered with my own question, confused.
"That woman was obviously flirting with you. I can't believe you didn't notice it," he said, his hand covering his forehead in surprise.
"Oh. I guess I may have been flirting with her," I finally answered, coming to the obvious realization. "I was just being nice and attempting to be a bit funny," I explained.
