The familiar ding of the bell by the door rattles and wakes me from my daydream, in which a handsome rich man whisks me away from the life I've grown to hate and takes me to a faraway land where people actually like me and cancer doesn't exist, reminding me that I have a job.
I'm working the benches tonight, and this person sits at the benches. The bell dings twice more and two other people file in and sit at the bench. They're all nicely dressed and seem to be mingling with one and other. It's either they've dressed up to come out to dinner-which would be surprising, I mean, look around, it's a dump- or they're rich. I hope they're rich. Admittedly the only man sitting there is around 50, but I'm desperate enough.
I serve them, as I seem obligated to do so and hand them their orders. As they leave, they smack down a massive tip. $20. I've hit the jackpots with these guys.
The bell chimes a few more times and rush hour arrives. We're going crazy, scrubbing benches for the hordes of people. It's busier than usual tonight. Finally, rush hour ends and just an elderly couple celebrating their 40th anniversary sit up the back in a booth. We might close the place when they leave.
I begin to scrub down the benches when the door dings again and in comes three guys. They all look
20-ish and two of them have tattoos. The blonde one doesn't. Well, not any that I can see. They sit at the bench further down from where I'm scrubbing. I know these guys from somewhere. I think they've been on the news or something. I haven't watched the news in 2 years since I can't afford cable.
Holy shit, I recognise these guys. How could I not? They're on the front of every second pencil case and notebook of the girls at my school. That band, One Direction. Why are they here? It's a lousy diner. They could be eating in luxury if they wanted to.
It's my lucky day, I'm working the area they're at. I make my way over to give them menus.
"Hey boys."
"Hey!" They reply in unison.
"You guys take a look at the menus and I'll be back soon." They nod and smile as I walk away.
I can see them grimacing at the menu. They're probably used to million dollar meals in restaurants where the cutlery is made of diamonds. Here, they're being served 2 star food in a diner with rotting chairs and if you're lucky, your cutlery will be clean.
I wait until they've all put their menus down and head back over.
"Alright have you guys had enough time to order?"
"Yup." the curly haired one answers. Hansel, I think his name is.
"Let's start with drinks."
"I'll have a coke thanks." the blonde tatoo-less one says
"Beer is fine." the dark haired overly-tattooed one says. I frantically scribble their orders on the yellow notepad.
"Water for me please." Hansel says. Hansel? He doesn't look like a Hansel. I think I've heard some of these guys songs. They're alright, actually.
"Ok then. What about food?"
"Well just have one of these sliders to share." I laugh. They'll probably get food poisoning.
"what's so funny? I'm not sure I see anything so hysterical about hamburgers." that just makes me laugh harder.
I lean in towards them, putting my hands on the bench.
"between you and me, guys, don't bother eating here. Those hamburgers will get you on the toilet for a week, if you're lucky. Just head back to the north side of town where you belong."
They just stare at me.
"I don't understand. What's so wrong about this place?" The tattooed one asks.
"I'm going to answer that question by asking you to look around. See that hole in the booth over there? That was first put there when a drunk man with a gun came in. Then, a rat chewed it further. That hanging light over there? That's not meant to be hanging. That tape over the window is to cover up the hole put there by a drunk teenager with, gasoline, a matchstick and good aim. You're better off at the dump. " I say, pointing at the various things wrong with the diner.
"I think it's cozy." Hansel says. I've gotta ask him what his name is?
"Cozy? Did you not hear me say that a drunk man shot a hole in the booth. With a GUN" I say, deadpanned.
"are you really telling us to leave? I have to say, you're the worst waitress I've ever had. We're staying, please." The blonde says.
"Fine. Coming right up." I say sarcastically, plastering a smile on my face and heading to the kitchen and sliding the order into the belt and tapping the bell.
I'm going to get a piece of these guys. I saunter back over to where here talking, making a speech up in my head as I go.
"I'm fine with you guys staying here, seriously, we need all the service we can get, but why are you even here in the first place? You guys belong in the shining lights of Brooklyn. Not the shit diners in the poor half of L.A."
"What are you saying that this is the worst waitress you've ever had, Niall? She's fabulous. I like you, nameless person." Hansel says, holding his hand out, expecting me to tell him my name. I wave him off.
Ok then, blonde= Niall
"Publicity. The paps expect us to go to the snazzy places uptown. No offense, but we would never come here if we didn't have the paps following our every move." Niall says.
"No offense taken, it feels great to know we're the celebs back-up plan." I say before sauntering off again.
I continue scrubbing the benches until the bell bings again signaling the order is ready. I grab it and smack it down in front of them. The burgers look especially unappetizing tonight.
"anything else I can get you guys?"
"a phone number would be nice?" Hansel says.
"no. Enjoy your meals!" just as I turn away Hansel grabs my wrist.
"please? One date. Tomorrow night. I don't even need your number. Give me a time, date and place. Please?"
"ok, Midnight, never, Hell. See you then!" then I quickly run away. I hear the other two chuckle while hansel groans.
I head to the door to turn over the Open sign so it says Closed because the two elderly people have left. I turn around and call to the boys.
"see this sign? It says Closed now. You should go now." of course it says Open from this angle, if we were standing on the other side it would say Closed, but I'm praying they're not smart enough to realize.
"actually it says Open." Niall says. I flip the sign over again.
"Ok now it says closed." I say again.
"no, see now it says closed to us, but open to the public. Technically it's still open. There's really no winning for you in this situation." Niall says
"Just finish your drinks, pay and leave. Please guys? It's late and I have school tomorrow." I pray that pulling the school girl card will get them to leave.
"We will as soon as you give me your number." hansell says.
"Come on Harry, just let's go. We have a gig tomorrow morning. And it's almost 11."
Harry, not Hansel. You know what? I prefer Hansel.
"oh shut up Zayne. I'm so close." and Mr Tattoos is Zayne.
I walk over to the bench, pick up the pad and pen, scribble down my number and hand it to Harry.
"Thanks babe. Let's go boys."
They turn around to walk away before I clear my throat.
"What now?" Zayne asks
"that'll be $32.50 thanks!" They all stop smiling and scramble for their wallets. They shove their money in my face and tell me to keep the change.
I'm getting great tips this evening.
Although I did have to give out my number.
To a dickhead.
Great.
