That Cliche Waitress

4

KIARA

Except, somehow, Dina was right next to me. She pulled me out of the crowd and into the restaurant.

"Oh my God, what the fuck is wrong with these people. Did they all fail U.S. History, because I clearly remember learning the ninth amendment stating that we had certain rights that weren't pronounced in the Bill of Rights! Like for example... Hm, PRIVACY AND PERSONAL FUCKING SPACE!" I yelled, clearly annoyed. 

But yelling didn't do me any good except earn a few glares from the receptionist behind the desk and a few waiters.

"Would you like a table?" asked the receptionist.

Are you serious? She must be new because no one EVER asks this question. 

I decided to play the classic card, "No. I would like a floor for two, please... Of course, I want a table! Preferably with chairs!"

I shook my head and whispered, "This restaurant was our rival? Puh-leeze."

I guess I wasn't really whispering because I heard a snort from Dina. I looked up to the receptionist but she didn't look like she noticed anything unusual in particular. Whew! Because I really was not looking to pick a fight.

"Table 2 is ready for you. Enjoy your meal!" she smiled at us.

Wow, I guess I must be the bitch here.

"Thanks." I smiled back at her.

Dina and I walked to Table 2 and took our seats. 

"You are such a bitch, you know that?" Dina laughed at me.

"Okay, okay. Maybe I am. BUT, in my defense... okay, I have no excuse. You win, happy?" I rolled my eyes.

"Careful there, sweetheart. Keep rolling those beautiful eyes and they might just fall off." A handsome, young waiter approached our table.

Honestly, my eyes weren't what I would describe as "beautiful". They were just... average. I will take the compliment, though, not without a sarcastic remark, because I want to see what this guy's got.

"I believe you get paid for serving our food, not complimenting customers' eyes." I winked.

"It's just a bonus for me, having the privilege to serve such gorgeous women." 

"Alright, alright. You win. What do you want?" I smirked, while Dina laughed at us.

"A phone number could be a great start, preferably with a name attached to it." 

I looked at his name tag, "You got a pen, Marc?"

Marc hands me his pen and a piece of paper. I write down a random number with a matching random name to compliment my masterpiece and hand the paper back to Marc. 

He reads it and smirks, "I will call you tonight, Sandra."

"Huh? Whose Sandra? Do you know a 'Sandra' my friend?" I ask Dina.

"No clue who that is, friend." she winks at me, laughing. I'm not saying this because she's my best friend, but Dina has the most amazing laugh, EVER.

"Sorry, babe. You said, 'a phone number' and 'a name attached to it.' Specify next time. Now, can we get our menus, please?" I winked at him.

"Damn. That was smooth. I'll be right back with your menus." he smiled genuinely at us. 

"HAHA! THAT WAS GOLD!" Dina yelled. A few people from the tables near us gave us a glare.

"You know... we've been getting a lot of glares today." Dina whispered, leaning close to me.

We both giggled and planned the day ahead of us. Marc returned momentarily with our menus. We gave him our orders and went back to our conversation.

"Yo, this feels kind of weird." I turned to Dina.

"What do you mean?" she asked.

"For once, I'm on this side of a restaurant. I'm not the one running around with orders and trays of food."

"Yeah... I want to tell you something while we're on this career title." 

You know that feeling you get when someone says, "We need to talk." 

That is how I feel right now.