Confessions Of An Ordinary Whore

Calorie Consumption

‭ "‬Elizabeth,‭ ‬take this last table,‭ ‬then you're good to go on break,‭" ‬my manger says as she hustles by me.‭ ‬Its been wicked busy the last few hours and I feel like my feet are literally going to fall off from the amount of walking around I've been doing. I suppress a sigh, before grabbing a handful of menus and heading over.

"Hi, my name is Elizabeth and I'll be your server today," I say, plastering on a fake smile," Can I start you off with anything...drinks maybe?" The group is composed of four people, two guys and two girls. It must be some kind of double date or something, which is creepy as hell. Double dates are seriously the weirdest invention ever. Why the hell would you wanna sit there trying to act all cutesy and shit with your significant other, knowing that there are two other people watching? Like no, what if you decided you wanted to go back and have sex after your little date? Are you supposed to bring the other two with you? What is this, some kind of giant, group orgy? No thank you.

"Yeah, I'll have a Coke," the guy with brown hair says. He's kind of cute, but in a puppy dog kind of way, not a "I want to take you home and fuck you" way. I nod my head and scribble his order down.

"And I'll have a Pepsi," says the other dude. I internally barf to myself, as I write down his order. Who drinks Pepsi these days? Its literally the nastiest thing ever. Keeping my own opinions to myself, I turn to the girl with artificially red hair. She just blinks back at me, as if she's never ordered anything in a restaurant before.

"What would you like to drink?" I ask, resisting the urge to reach out and flick her on the nose to hurry her along.

"Um....I'll have," she stops and turns to her blond friend, "wait, what are you gonna get?" she asks, as if this is a life or death situation that she can't handle on her own. I internally roll my eyes as the two of them hold a quick discussion about what to order. They finally turn to me and I get ready to write down their orders.

"We're not really sure yet?" the blond girl says, her voice pitching up at the end, making her statement seem like a question. If self-esteem grew on a tree, I would totally pick some right now and shove it down her throat. I click my pen impatiently at her.

"What sorts of things do you haveee," the redhead asks, drawing out the last word to add extra emphasis. As if this is the most important question on the fucking planet, which its not. The menu is literally sitting right in front of her, so unless she forgot how to read, she can just look at the list of drinks there. Even if she did forget how to read, practically every restaurant serves the same drinks and I highly doubt this is the first time she's ever been to one.

"We have Coke, Pepsi, Sprite, Root Beer, Ginger Ale, Seltzer," I begin to monotonously rattle off the drinks that literally every restaurant has.

"Ooohhh," redhead gasps, as if she's just been presented with a million dollars, "Can I get a Seltzer?" I resist the urge to barf all over her face as I write down her order. I mean, who orders Seltzer of all things? Seltzer is pretty much tap water that some old lady from the nursing home decided to fart in. Gross.

"Oh yeah, I'll have that too," her little, blond friend pipes up. Great, so they're both psychos with no fucking taste buds. I add one more Seltzer to my list of drink orders, keeping my thoughts on their horrible choices to myself.

"Okay, those will be right out," I say cheerily, before heading back to the kitchen.

In less than ten minutes, I'm back at their table, drinks in hand.

"Here you go," I say as I quickly distribute the drinks to their rightful owners, "Now, what can I get you to eat?" I'm hoping they've all decided what they want by now because I'm really not in the mood to go through the whole drink ordeal again. The world apparently has other plans for me, though.