I move away from the couple and make my way over to one of the booths in the corner. I drop my purse on the seat, sit down, and grab the plastic menu. I’m not real picky on what I eat, as long as it doesn’t taste like sawdust or have a beating heart. I’m pretty desperate for any food at this point.
Most of the foods are the same as any diner you come across. They have a large variety of breakfast dishes, the usual hamburger and fries, several different kinds of melts, and a select few dinner dishes, which included a roll, two veggies, and a salad. Nothing special or out of the ordinary. They offer coffee, sweet tea, coke, diet coke, fresh lemonade, milk, and water.
I close the first menu and pick up the second one. This menu is different than the first. It isn’t plastic and looks like it is just a thick sheet of paper that has pictures of desserts printed on it. To not be laminated and around food and liquids all day the menu is in perfect shape. There are pictures showing Kristen's Supreme Banana Pudding, Jay's Chocolate Crinkles, Barb's Coconut Cream Swirl, Brenda's Chocolate Cake Surprise, and Grandma Rosy's Pecan Pie.
“We have an ever-changing dessert menu,” comes a soft and flowing voice.
I glance up, making sure my hair covers my scar, and see the waitress that was swapping spit with the man a few minutes ago standing by my table. “Excuse me?”
She quirks her lips up into a smile and says, “I noticed you looking at the menu strangely and didn't want you to think we were so cheap we couldn't afford to laminate our dessert menu. The menu changes every month, so there's no sense in spending the money on laminating the menu's when they'll be tossed in the trash soon anyway.”
I glance back down at the menu in my hand and ask, “Why does the menu change every month?”
“We have an ongoing contest to see who makes the best desserts. Anyone in town who wants to enter brings in a dessert sample and we pick five to sell here at the diner for the whole month. They can either choose to give the recipe to us and we can make the desserts ourselves or they can make it themselves and just bring it in when we need it. At the end of the month the whole town votes to see whose dessert was the best. The winner gets one free meal a day for the next month.”
She is a beautiful woman. Her sandy blond hair is swept up on top of her head and has a pen sticking out of the back. It looks like she just grabbed a hair tie on the go and quickly pulled it back. Her face is free of makeup except for maybe a dash of blush and a quick swipe of mascara. She has beautiful blue eyes. They are a deep blue with a hint of a lighter blue around the outside. They kind of remind me of what a blue moon would look like if the moon actually turned blue during its second rare full moon of the month. The shirt she has on is a white button up with pleats running down the sides. On the top left side, right above her breast, is a white name tag that reads 'Anna'. She has on a pair of violet colored skinny jeans. Her shoes are standard white Keds.
She reaches out her hand and says, “Hi, I'm Anna.”
Not wanting to appear rude, I settle my hand in hers. “Bailey.”
“Well, hi Bailey, nice to meet you. What can I get for you tonight?” I can tell that she is an extremely happy and energetic person. She smiled the entire time she talked and bounced on her heels. I can never understand how some people are always happy and on the go. I can never remember a time in my life when I was truly and utterly happy. My childhood was filled with verbal and physical abuse. My one saving grace that kept me sane while I was a child was that I could one day escape it all. Little did I know that I would be jumping from the frying pan and into an inferno. Actually, it was worse than an inferno, I jumped straight into hell. A hell that scarred me, literally and figuratively, for the rest of my life. A hell that I had no means to escape from. A hell that I was still being forced to live in.
I release her hand and decide on something simple and cheap for my dinner. “I'll take the burger and fries, please.”
“And to drink?” She asks while taking out a notepad from her apron and pulling the pen from her hair.
“Water,” I reply, trying to go as cheap as I could. Most restaurants don't charge for water and I’m hoping Maggie's Diner is one of those places.
Anna scribbles on her little notepad, sticks the pen back in her hair and says “I'll have it right out for you.” Still smiling, she turns and flounces away.
A little dazed from my encounter with the exuberant waitress, I glance around at my surroundings. I notice that the young couple seated in a booth a couple of places over from me to the left is staring at each other with stars in their eyes. They can’t be more than 16 or 17 years old, but you can tell they are completely infatuated with each other. When I was just a few years their senior, I too thought that I had found something special and lasting. After college graduation it didn't take long for me to realize my hopes and dreams were all an illusion.
Looking to my right, I find one of the older men has turned around to look at me. He looks to be in his 70's. His hair is as white as salt with just barely there hints of pepper. His skin is wrinkled and sagging and his cheeks have that sunken in look. The arm that he has draped across the back of the booth is skin and bones. He’s wearing a green and gray plaid shirt with the sleeves rolled up to just below his elbow.
“Why do you wear your hair in your face like that, little girl?” He asked in a well-used and scratchy voice.
I sit there stunned and speechless at his inquiry. Not many people ask that question of me. I don't know if it’s because they don't notice, they don't care, or they don't want to offend me. This old man threw me for a loop and I don't know how to respond. Luckily, the old buzzard’s equally old friend rescues me from coming up with an answer.
“Jack, don't ask the girl that, it's none your business,” he scolds his friend. He can't have been more opposite in looks than the first old man named Jack. Where Jack is a bag of bones, his friend has maybe 50 pounds too many. He has thinning hair and it’s solid gray. He has on a pair of old coveralls with a deep blue button up on underneath.
Jack turns and looks at his friend. “What? I just don't understand why a pretty girl like her would want to cover up that face. She should pull her hair back so we can all enjoy her beauty.” He turns back towards me with his eyebrows puckered in concentration.
“Jack! Don't talk to her like that! Can't you see you’re scaring the poor thing?” Says the unknown friend. Bringing his eyes back to me he continues, “Don't mind him, he's very simple minded and if he comes across something he doesn't understand he lets others know. He's never learned how to curb his tongue.”
“Hey, I take offense to that, you old goat. There's nothin’ wrong with tryin’ to bring the girl out of her shell. It's obvious she's a shy little thing and just needs a little push to get moving.”
Jack's friend looks to the ceiling and rolls his eyes. When he looks back at me he says, “I'm Jake and this here nosy body is Jack.”
I bite my lip, trying not to smile. I really have no inclination to get to know anybody here in this town. I won’t be here long enough to form any type of friendships before I have to move on to another no name place. But these two old men are hard to resist. It’s plain to see that they have been friends for a long time, probably more years than I'd been alive. They both compliment each other. Where Jack is gruff, grouchy, and way too outspoken, the other is kind, considerate, and keeps his manners.
A little smile forms on my lips and I introduce myself. “Hello, I'm Bailey.”
“Very nice to meet you, little lady,” replies Jake.
“Yeah, good to meet ya.” This from Jack, which he follows up with, “What brings you to our little town?”
I’m saved from answering his, once again, nosy question when Anna comes back with my water.
She places my water down on the table in front of me, props her hands on her hips, and turns towards Jack and Jake's table. “Alright Jack, I won't be having you harassing my customers again. Leave this nice lady alone and get back to your dinner.”