Paper Stars

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Paper Stars

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The last few weeks of December were always made up of the worst days of my life. Cranky seniors, rude high school seniors, psychotic mothers, and unbelievably noisy kids were usually the type of people who entered Rita's once winter break hits. 

I love Rita's- don't get me wrong. The staff's great, the pay's not too shabby, and I always get extra hours if I asked, but it seemed as if the only way this town relieved the stress put on by the holiday season is to harass all of the minimum wage employee's. 

I was a minimum wage employee.

It sucked. 

"Tony, can you grab table seven for me real quick? I'm dealing with a grade A douchbag at table nine right now." Eva pleaded with wide eyes and clasped her hands together, looking completely desperate and pissed off at the same time. 

I pushed my glasses up and rolled my eyes. "You know I can never say no to you." 

She laughed and slapped my arm. 

"It's my charm darling," she drawled, winking at me in the process.

Eva twirled away with her notepad in hand, and sped through the maze of customers to stop at a table with some grimey looking guy who spent way too long looking at her chest rather than the menu. She smiled and set down a napkin, spreading her hand out in a particular way so that he could glance at the engagement ring she proudly put on display.

He backed off.

Well, after she flipped him off.

He did attempt to slap her rear end. 

I shook my head. One day, Eva was gonna get fired all because some guy couldn't take a damn hint.

I sighed, ready to clock out, when I remembered table seven. 

"Only one more table, you can do this," I mumbled to myself. It's not a big deal, except I have to finish all my applications by tonight.  

I walked robotically, almost running over two toddlers who decided to paint the floor with their spaghetti sauce and milkshakes. I smiled at them, stepping over their masterpiece, and out of the blue I picked up an arguement about serving sizes with a couple on their date.

The customers always right. Always. 

The couple finally got their family platter instead of the regular platter with extra sides. Which were exactly the same thing, just on different plates. 

It took me two deep breaths and a lot of internal debating before I left the guy unharmed so he could enjoy his regular platter with his girlfriend. One more snobby comment and he would've spent the rest of the night in the ER. Well, the most damage I could've done was stab him with my pen, in which case he could probably land me in the ER. 

Basically, it took a grand total of about seven minutes before I could even think about heading over to table seven.

"Hello! Welcome to Rita's, I'm extremely sorry about the long wait, are you guys ready to order?" I flashed my usual waiter smile which felt more like a miniature facial spasm and plucked my notepad from my front pocket, relieved that I could finally get this nightmare of a night over with. 

"Hm, see sweetie, why don't you date nice guys? This man seems lovely, and he doesn't have any tattoos," cooed the woman to my left, vaguely motioning to me.