Chapter 3: Pizza Master
"One three-cheese, two chicken, and a Hawaiian pizza if you may," declares the female customer to me tenderly.
A rare trait not present in many customers who visit 'Pizza Master' or any place that includes business really. I work as a waitress here since you are wondering.
"Oh, and one barbeque pizza as well."
I scribble down the order and ask what I'm normally required to ask: "Would you like any drinks, ma'am?"
"Would you like anything particular," she looks around her accompanies. Her children, maybe? They look like middle or high schoolers.
"Iced Tea."
"Water."
"Diet cola."
I write them all down. "Anything for you ma'am?"
"Please make them three water bottles."
"Of course," I note down the change.
Five pizzas and five drinks mean five customers, but I only see four. The father is probably the fifth, either parking the car or on his way from work.
This should not concern me and is not any of my business, but I like to make sense of simple stuff like this since being a waitress is not something very appealing, especially for a person like me.
Waiting patiently is so not my thing, and having to endure hostile customers and remain friendly with them no matter what every day is near impossible.
I even lost my temper once with one, and the manager shortaged my salary for that day. She thinks I would have learned by now, but she's wrong. I mean, learn what exactly? It wasn't even my fault, he was just being such a dick. Jeez.
"Excuse me," someone says, and the voice is loud enough to catch my attention and bring me back to reality. It takes me a second to realize that one of the people occupying one of our tables is calling for me.
I rush to their table to see what they need.
"We have placed our order, but it had been thirty minutes already," says the raspy voice of the customer. "It hasn't been served yet and we're starving." He frowns.
The guy in front of me is indeed handsome, but not bad boy handsome or movie-most-popular-guy-in-school handsome. Just normal handsome. Let's call him Guy A.
Another guy accompanies him, his buddy maybe? He's good looking too. Has those cute puppy eyes you just can't say no to. He'll be Guy B.
I like them both, and I think they're both cute and handsome, but I'm not romantically interested. How could I be? I don't even know them.
"I apologize for the inconvenience sincerely," I try to explain myself. "Our cooks are working very hard and the restaurant has become busier these days, and--"
"Is this how you explain yourself? With lame excuses?" Exclaims Guy A before slamming his hand on the table. I flinch.
May is one of those cooks!
"You there," he looks at me with disgust, "get your manager's butt in here right now," he spits, his breath reaching my face. Ew. The stench. I turn around, waving at my nose so the fume goes away.
I can't believe I thought he was handsome!
"Wait," says a soft voice.
I turn back around, because of the voice, but mostly because that was my intention all along. As I turn around, I see Guy A wincing. Guy B kicked him in the knee under the table. Totally deserved it.
"Ouch, man, why the--"
It was Guy B who asked me to wait.
He tries to explain: "No worries, excuse my. . . friend here--"
"It is not necessary for my manager to get called into this, because there is no problem whatso--wait, what?" he laughs.
What did he just say? I thought he was going to tell me what his rude friend said, just in a nicer way. In the end, I am to get the manager. But it seems. . . like something else.
He comes close enough so only I can hear him, "He's kinda moody today, and all last week really." He mistakes my confused expression, therefore saying: "His girlfriend broke up with him."
*Oh.* Oh. Serves him right. He still shouldn't have acted that way, whatever reason or excuse he might have thought granted him eligible.
"I heard that." That makes Guy B smirk.
If rude Guy A asks me to apologize, I will kick him in the genitals. What? It's not because I'm stubborn, it's because I did nothing worth apologizing for. Correction: nothing at all.
If I was at fault, I would whole-heartedly confess without a second thought.
"I can see why," I whisper back in a hushed tone, just before he throws his head back and laughs so hard that I join in right after.
Guy A rolls his eyes and opens his mouth to spit out whatever nasty comment he has in mind, but he doesn't get the chance to.
"What is going on here?"
I know that voice well enough to know its owner anywhere. That voice had yelled at me multiple times ever since I started working here, screamed at me for not being patient with customers,--who were in fact very disrespectful--faulted me for things I was never supposed to be accused of.
Manager Corn.
Ok, fine, her nickname's Corn by me, but she doesn't know about it since I don't call her by it. Otherwise, I would be a victim of her annoying threats and ruthless warnings. Thanks, but no thanks.
"Manager Cornelia," I bow my head slightly, "I--nothing is--," I stutter. I try clearing my throat but Mr. Puppy eyes interrupts, saving me manager's vengeance.
"Nothing is in fault, Mrs. Cornelia, we were just calling this very humble waitress to our table to hand us our bill."
Manager Corn narrows her eyes, looking at me with disdain, "Why is there a commotion then?"
Guy A tries to speak but Mr. Puppy eyes hits him in the waist with his elbow. He once again grimaces, angry at his friend now too, and blurts out, "Perfect timing, manager, I was just telling your shameless waitress to get you--"
I hope she missed that adjective.
"To get you to. . . tell you how delicious and perfect the food is," savior guy exclaims.
Wait, why am I not saying anything and letting someone else cover for me?
"You wanted to tell me your opinion on our food and get your bill when you have not ordered yet, is that correct?" His face reddens, but he doesn't give up.
Phew, she missed it.
"We have tried your food before, and we just remembered that we promised our friends somewhere. We just didn't want to seem rude by not eating anything. We did order water though." He gestures to the water on the table.
Yes! They did order water. Luck is on our side. I silently gesture a 'yes' with my right arm to myself.
"We were just wondering how much it costs."
Corn raises her left eyebrow, "There is no need to pay for that, as long as you don't leave with empty bellies the next time you visit."
Of course, she would not mind. Customers *always* come first. Doesn't mean she won't have conditions.
"Yes, ma'am." He grabs his leather jacket and gets up from his seat and does his best to drag his friend with him, but he doesn't budge. He whispers something into his ear that makes him jump almost immediately.
I put my hand over my mouth to stifle the laugh that nearly bubbles up to the surface.
Once they're gone, manager looks at me for a minute, eyes narrowed, before ordering me to clean up and leaving.
What an interesting day! Not so enjoyable for me. I can't imagine what May would have to say to this. I can't imagine what *I* would have to say if this were to happen to her.
Manager looks back, glaring at me, making me leave my thoughts for later, and dash to the table to tidy up. When her back is to me once again, I roll my eyes.
I guess 'A Silent Voice' will have to wait.
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