Memories By Inner Light

The ominous rumblings of a yet unspent summer thunder shower still hung heavily over the corner luncheon on a sticky frizzy day in late July. It was another exciting day at the corner luncheon. Number of customers zero, well one if you counted th coffee to-go order. Tips? Meager change, scrounged for with accompanying irritated sigh and roll of eyes as change was thrust into the now unwilling (and yet still open) palms of the solitary waitress who promptly dropped the "tip" into the tip bowl with a guilty, half dead ka-chink. Resuming her current task at hand, she again perched herself on a bar-stool overlooking the counter and stared into her plate.

From some dark very uninterested corner of her consciousness she could hear the crunch and chomp of her only other companion as he nibbled away at his sandwich. He was a new cook...very new.She looked at the half raw hamburger in front of her and heaved a plaintive pitiful sigh. It had smelled so good too. Now, staring at the sunken over-pink melting meat wad before her, she was reminded again of all those terrifying cow diseases that she could contract (mostly exaggerated by a sufficiently bored imagination that was even by nature prone to blowing things out of proportion) and the mere suggestion of one mad frothing cow was enough to prompt her to apply the analogy to herself and come up with a slightly scary, thought vaguely humorous picture of a frothing waitress. She chuckled lightly and with a shrug, downed the burger without a second thought. At least if she was frothing it would break up the trend towards bland, blase, days that had become staple fare now that the summer was fully summer, and the excitement of school being out had sufficiently tired itself out as had lapsed into the usual mid-summer laziness...with the naturally accompanying boredom.

She looked over at her companion hunched over his sandwich. He looked back with a nervous crumbly smile, and resumed his meal. Funny how his food was never undercooked, she thought, but felt it unnecessary to press the matter. What did she care? To whom would she complain?

Their boss had left for the afternoon for a smoke and errands. He wouldn't be back until the dinner rush. Clock check! Not for another two hours...all sense of excitement suddenly evaporated. She rested her chin on the counter and tried to look spellbound by the shiny silverware.She eyed the tip bowl with disdain. Maybe 75 cents total if she was lucky...whoever said that she would make good tips here should go forth and eat one of New Cook's hamburgers as punishment.

It was with great reservations that she moved from her spot. The thinking being that the hamburger may not like being moved around, since it already got jipped out of being cooked (that makes for an especially angry burger). But in the end the whole absurdity of having her will submitted to raw meat quickly priced her pride and with a swivel and a hop she was off to get the book she had brought.

When the boss got back, New Cook was still nibbling his sandwich, and with the self-same crumbly smile, pointed towards the nearest bathroom when asked where the Solitary Waitress was. In the end, meat had vanquished...leaving a much wiser...and much lighter waitress in it's stead.