It's Not Easy (NaNoWriMo!)

Rush Hour at Macy's

Rush Hour at Macy's

Yet again, I sat in the back of the band room. The doctor had said ‘No physical activity for the week’. I prayed waitressing didn’t count as physical activity. Wouldn’t that be pleasant?

“Yeah, about work today… you see, I got into a car crash ten minutes after the interview. But I’ll be at work tomorrow!” That wouldn’t go over well.

Once the bell had rung I hurried down the hallway, cramming myself in between clusters of people. I was slammed against my own locker by someone passing by, then forced to plaster myself to the cold metal in order to do my combination. When I finally got my locker the halls were almost bare, a few people still mingling. I was able to step back and give myself some room.

The walk to Macy’s was slow going, cold and nerve racking. With every step I felt like I was stepping into a bigger puddle of failure. Then, when I walked in and saw Macy’s warm smile, I got a little bit of hope.

“How are you? How’s you’re cousin?” she asked as she ushered me into the kitchen.

My jaw dropped and I found it hard to answer her questions. “My cousin broke her leg, but other than that everyone is fine. How did you find out about it?”

“Your Aunt called, told me all about. I suggested you stayed home, but she said you were well enough,” she said as she dug in her apron pocket. When she had found what she was looking for she turned around and grabbed an apron from a hook.

“What needs to be done, then?”

“Take orders and hand them to Liza. Start with that table,” she handed me a notepad, pen and apron while pointing through the order window at a table. “Get to it.”

She gave me a little push toward the door; I stumbled the first few feet. After taking a second to compose myself, I walked up to the table occupied by two elderly men.

“Are you ready to order?” I chirped. One of them looked up at me with a grin, and then looked back at his menu.

“Why yes, yes we are,” the other said. “Could we start with two black coffees?”

“Absolutely, is that all?” I scribbled coffee down on my notepad while I waited for an answer.

“No, that’s all for now.”

“I’ll be right back.”

I manoeuvred my way around the empty tables toward the kitchen. Lisa stood behind the oven poking at a half-empty pot of soup.

“Where do I find the coffee maker?” I asked, looking around, but seeing no machine.

“I’ll get it!” Lisa shrieked. “What flavour?”

“Just black to stay,” I watched as Lisa grabbed two mugs from the dishwasher and filled them with the black liquid. She sighed as she placed them on saucers, then onto a tray. Clearly her last form of entertainment was gone and she went back to poking at soup.

“I though you needed help around here?” I laughed as I took the tray from her.

Lisa chuckled then looked up at me, “Wait until around six.”

I didn’t say anything else; in fear she might scare me even further. Carefully, I cared the tray out, trying not to spill any of the steaming coffee on myself.

“Here you go,” I placed the two cups of coffee on the tabled and tucked the tray under my arm. “Anything else?”

“I’ll take the beef sandwich with a side order of fries,” declared the man who never spoke last time I was at the table.