licks his lips, still staring.
Screw this, I think to myself. “Sure, honey.” I dial up the sweetness in my voice. I lean across him to get the sugar shaker that’s clearly sitting on the table right in front of him. Bending over, my tits are just inches from his face. For a moment, I hover like that. Then I straighten up, take the sugar shaker, and turn it upside down over his head, letting a steady stream of sweet sugary crystals down onto his leering face.
“Hey!” He yelps and scoots to the far side of the booth he’s sitting in, trying to escape. “What the fuck you think you’re doing?!” His face is red with shock. He angrily brushes bits of sugar off of his baseball cap, letting them settle on the old t-shirt he’s wearing. It’s so worn, it has holes in it, allowing patches of his pale skin and hairy belly to stick through.
“That’s the only kinda sugar you’ll be getting here,” I tell him. I shake my head with disgust. “And if you can’t treat me and the other waitresses here with some respect, I suggest you leave.” I quickly calculate the total on his check and rip it off my pad as I’m talking, leaving it on the table and walking away.
“Crazy fucking bitch.” He mumbles the words under his breath as I walk away, but I don’t bother to turn around. He got the message loud and clear. I smile to myself as I skip past the tables.
“All good out there, sweetie?” Dad asks as I enter the kitchen at the back.
“Yeah, just clearing out the last customers. One guy was dawdling.” I give him a knowing smile. In the past, that kind of jerk customer would have had me asking for help. But lately, I’ve gotten better at handling them myself.
“Good, good. I’m ready to get out of here.” I watch as he finishes scraping off the griddle he’s been cleaning. He gives me a smile as he removes his white apron, stained with grease and sauce. “Just gotta clean up and then I’m off.”
He grabs a mop and bucket and turns his attention to the kitchen floors. Once he takes off his chef’s cap, I can see how his grey hair is thinning. He and mom still joke about the full mane he once had. I’ve seen photos of my dad with his hair past his shoulders in his freewheeling youth.
With a grin, I head back out through the swinging doors into the front of the diner. The guy who was bugging me has left and Janice, a young local girl who helps out waitressing on weekends, has already cleared his table.
Other than her, the diner is empty. I look over the space with appreciation. I basically grew up here. The lines of red plastic booths and shining white tabletops feel like home.
“You need anything else from me, Lilly?” Janice asks, pausing on the other side of the long white counter, where she’s been carefully wiping down menus.
“No, go on home. You got your tips?”
“Yeah.” She smiles happily.
“Got big plans?” I ask.
“Going to the movies with my boyfriend.”
“Driving to Charlottesburg?” There isn’t a movie theater in Parkville and Charlottesburg is the closest “big” town with an actual theater.
“Yeah,” she nods, untying her apron and stashing it under the register. “Gonna see the new James Bond.”
“Well, get going before you miss it,” I nod towards the door and watch as the teen girl scurries off. After she steps out, I cross the white tiled floor and lock the door after her. Then I click off the fluorescent open sign, turn up the volume on the radio, and start closing the front of the restaurant. Wiping down counters and tables, mopping floors, rolling silverware for tomorrow—the tasks are soothing in their monotony. You can just shut your brain off and go through the motions.
“All good out here, Lilly Bear?” Dad strolls out of the kitchen just as I’m finishing.
“Yup. Just need to count out the register and do the books for the day.”
“Good, good. You mind handling that? I’ve got a hot date.” He nods at the front door. Mom is already there, tapping on the glass and smiling happily.
I giggle. After all these years, Mom and Dad still always insist on walking home from the diner together after they’ve closed shop for the day. If only one of them is working, the other will make the fifteen-minute walk from home to pick the other