Where there's a Will.....

Where there's a will, there's a way, right?

Where there's a Will, there's a Cassy

Chapter 6


"Excuse me. Sir? Excuse me? My daughter requested no sauce…this has sauce."
I bite back a cutting remark, apologize in what I hope is a convincing manner and take the plate back the kitchen.
Ryan waggles an eyebrow, and asks, "Which table? No, no. Let me guess." He peers from his position in the kitchen out the round window on the swinging door, and snorts derisively. "Miss Priss and her fat, smarmy daughter? Am I right?"
"Never fails." I laugh

I push past the swinging doors with the sauce-less plate, and, with a flourish, present it to the child, who as Ryan aptly described, is indeed fat and smarmy. She looks smugly at the plate without so much as a thankyou and picks up the fork in her chubby hand.
The mother raises her eyes to me, and smiles half-heartedly. "Thank you so much" she says condescendingly, and I nod and stroll away.

That's right, I wait tables.
What an exciting job, right? No. Not at all. Tonight, so far, I have dealt with (not including that little scenario) an elderly man whose dentures fell into his food, a lady who could not understand that her dog couldn’t sit at the table (she was lucky enough the mutt was allowed inside!) and a man who threw his plate to the floor, because, in his words, "I asked for rare and this is medium rare!" As you do.

A bored voice stops me in my tracks. "Will."
Ren sits perched at a table, and I say perched because for some reason, the girl reminds me of a bird. Maybe it's her stature; short and small bones, almost to the point of looking starved. Maybe it's her bright dyed red hair that reminds me of a robin.
"Ren. Hey." I say, "What's up?"
She shrugs bony shoulders, and nods her head to the empty seat beside her. "Lexie and I thought we'd try out your restaurant."
"It's not my restaurant."
"Fine. The establishment where you are currently resident dogsbody?" she asks, raising an eyebrow, gesturing toward the fat child and her mother. "Better?"
Lexie appears, even more out of place then Ren, and flings her art spattered arms around me. "William. There you are." Her voice is loud, and people turn, but I don’t care. I feel like saying, "What are you looking at? Don't you have your own lives to be getting on with? Turn around and eat your soup."
"Hey Lex. Where's Nick?"
"About." she drops into her seat, and flicks through the menu. "Now, Ren here has been telling me you are a waiter." she squints at me over the top of the menu, and smirks. "Are you or are you not meant to be taking our order? Or do you just dress up as a waiter and skulk about, waiting for friends to come in?"
I groan and pull a notebook from my apron, flipping it open expertly. "Ooh, look, Ren." she laughs, poking her. "He has a notebook. Must be legit."
I can't help but roll my eyes. "What do you want?"
Ren tuts. "No wonder people complain. You rude individual. I might just take my business elsewhere…"
She winks, and finally orders - "I'll take a salad, William. But hold the croutons, darling. Can't stand the things. Ugghhh."
I make a long sweeping bow and swagger off, presenting the order to Ryan.
"Extra croutons, Ryan. Lots and lots of croutons."

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