“Can I start you off with something to drink?” The waitress asked after sitting me down at a booth that was much too large for one person. She handed me a sticky plastic menu before bending down and resting her palms on my table. She smelt strongly of cigarettes and I could see one poking out of one of the front pockets on her stained, black Denny’s apron. I wondered if she had had a recent smoke break. I assumed that she had, as the restaurant was deserted.
“Slow night,” she commented after noticing me staring blankly at the empty tables that surrounded my booth.
Snapping out of my daze, I looked up at her wrinkled face. “Black coffee,” I said, before staring back down at my menu.
“I’ll be right back with your coffee, honey,” she replied before offering me a final wide smile that displayed all of her yellow, crooked teeth and heading towards the kitchen.
With the waitress gone, I sighed and opened my sticky menu back up. I heard the front door of the restaurant open, but didn’t look up. A moment later, the waitress returned, holding a steaming mug. She placed it down and some of the coffee sloshed onto the table. I watched as she grabbed a dirty towel from her apron and mopped up the brown liquid.
“Sorry about that,” she smiled. “So, what’ll it be?” She asked as she crammed the towel back into her pocket and grabbed her notepad.
“The turkey dinner,” I said simply. She scribbled my order onto her pad.
“You know, a nice looking young man just walked in,” the waitress commented. “Maybe I can sit him down at your table. A girl as pretty as yourself shouldn’t be eating Thanksgiving dinner alone.”
I felt my cheeks go pink. “No thanks, I don’t really celebrate Thanksgiving anyway,” I said, trying to keep my voice steady. I did not want the waitress to think I was in need of pity company.
“Alright then,” she smiled as she left to seat him. I turned around and was surprised to see that the young man was a handsome curly headed boy who I recognized from somewhere I could not place. I wondered why he was eating Thanksgiving dinner alone. He noticed me staring and offered me a smile and a nod. I waved at him before staring down at my coffee.
After I finished my rubbery and overly salted Thanksgiving dinner, the waitress returned to my booth to clear my plate. “Dessert?” She smiled.
“No thanks, can I grab the bill?”
“The young man over there actually covered it for you,” she grinned, gesturing towards the curly headed boy.
“Well, thank you,” I stuttered, feeling my face grow pink. I dug through my wallet and pulled out a ten-dollar bill. I handed it to the waitress. She waved her hand, rejecting it.
“He tipped generously too,” she stated.
“Well, it’s Thanksgiving,” I smiled, offering the tip again. This time, she took it.
I offered her one final smile before looking around for the curly headed boy. All that I found, however, was an empty booth with a half-eaten plate of turkey and two, crisp hundred dollar bills.
I shook my head and smiled. At least it had been a good night for the waitress.
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