The Impatient Man and His Suit

An Encounter

Popping my head through the order rack to see who had entered, I scowled at a tall, lanky lad dragging himself into the diner. Leaning against the counter and retrieving a toothpick from the dispenser, he knocked his knuckles on the white surface and announced himself, "Oi, start me an order of sausages n' eggy bread will ye?"

"Oh please. Get into the kitchen and make your own bloody food," Darla snapped.

The teenager expressed his dejection, his oily face shining in the light as he walked to the back,
"It was only a joke...It wouldn't kill ye to actually humor me for once."

I lifted a white apron freckled with grease stains and offered it as he walked passed me, giving a monotonous greeting, "Mornin'."

"Morning Michael..." I smiled, lifting my brows as he snatched it from my hands.

As the day slowly crept into noon, I quickly grew tired of my lackluster occupation. It seemed as if the thoughts which crossed my mind earlier that day had shifted my perspective on everything I used to enjoy. But as it grew darker outside, the spectrum of customers changed, giving me something different to focus on. Truck drivers and college students turned into families and old married couples. The wives always seemed to have a problem with the temperature of their food and the kids seemed to have a problem with keeping their ketchup on their chips, rather than on the floors.

The diner became slow and quiet as the night passed on, and the only thing that kept me sane through the silence was a book. Frankenstein. I had reread it countless times before, always picking it up again once reality felt too metallic and emotionless.

I read intently as background noises melted into a muffled mixture of rain and thunder. Each page was filled with so much urgency and sadness that the only hope inside it resigned on the preceding page. My attention was so captivated by the book, that I had forgotten my duty as a server, and as a result, I neglected to notice an impatient man in a curious suit. I quickly turned my attention to the customer and apologized as I set my book down. It was odd to see a formally dressed customer at such an hour in the night.

Making no reply, he set a list of orders on the counter separating us. The collection of orders was massive and the clock reminded me that only ten minutes were left till closing. Concealing my displeasure, I smiled and popped a joke, "That's a lot of coffee and chips for just one person don't you think?" 

He didn't seem too amused with my lighthearted comment, but kept quiet and held a bland expression. The first thing I noticed about the man, besides his horrid attitude, was his pale skin. In fact, his face seemed imbalanced in pallidness next to the rest of his body.

Busily copying the orders on transfer paper, I paused as he slowly brandished his credit card in my face. Nearly stunned by his awkward action and inability to speak, I carefully took the card from his hand, glimpsing an oddly engraved ring on one of his fingers; which perceived a snake overlapping itself into a knot.

"That's a very elaborate ring you have there," I remarked as I tried to lessen the tension.

Again, he said nothing but gave his attention to the rain and thunder outside. I nearly decided it would be best to refrain from any other attempts of conversation, but soon gave in when I thought a small comment regarding the storm could be worth a shot. "It's crazy out there tonight."

Keeping his eyes fixed on the window, he shared his opinion, "I hope it turns the power out."

Creasing my brows, I responded with a nervous laugh, "I certainly don't."

Pinning his gaze onto me, he was silent but maintained harsh eye contact. His pale eyes were eerily captivating and the bags underneath only intensified my uneasiness. His jacket was covered in dust and dirt, yet his expression was the most rugged of all his features. After he freed me from his petrifying glare, he casually resumed himself and turned his attention back to the storm.

Still burdened by his uncomfortable presence, I finished writing down each order and clipped them on the order rack for Michael to see. Soon after, the rack shook violently, and along with it came a loud grunt.

The food was made with godspeed and as soon as the fiend received his bags, he was out the door and straight into the rain.

"He's mad, it's pouring out there!" Michael exasperated.

My place of work never failed to attract wildly peculiar characters. But it was upon rare occasion to see such an oddly assembled individual like this come in. Still standing behind the counter with my hands elevated from where the suited man hastily grabbed his food, I meditated on the experience. Although his overall gruffness was the highlight of his appearance, I had never seen hair so naturally white.