My coworker and I are in the middle of a shift. Business is slow at the moment, but we know the evening rush will begin in a half hour.
We talk about our love lives. Her boyfriend is a total jerk, but I guess they deserve each other. I tell her about my girlfriend whom I met online.
The restaurant cook overhears us and decides to hijack the conversation, “How old is she?”
“Sixteen,” I reply.
“And how old are you?” The cook asks.
“Ohhh!” The cook replies with shock and contempt. To her, this is a juicy piece of news.
“I wouldn’t do anything with her because I respect and revere her so much?”
“Uh-huh. Right. The police are going pick you up for messing with jailbait.” The cook says sarcastically.
“Believe what you want, but I wouldn’t do anything illegal with her.”
“So you’re a virgin.”
“Yes, and she is as well. We’re not just outwardly religious.”
The cook gets even angrier. I cannot imagine why. Well, maybe I can.
She then takes the lid of a pot out of the cabinets and begins preparing for the evening rush. Suddenly the handle knob on the pot lid comes undone.
“Give me your Swiss Army Knife, I need the screwdriver on it.”
I would never let anyone touch my Swiss Army Knife or my Mini Maglite, they are my prized possessions.
“No way,” I tell her.
“And why not?”
“Because I don’t trust you. I’ll fix the lid myself.”
“You need to watch what you say and how you act!” My co-worker tells me.”
“That’s my favorite knife, why should I let her touch it.”
“I thought you weren’t just outwardly religious, aren’t you supposed to share your belongings and love your enemies.”
“Yes, but I am also supposed to be wise as a serpent not just harmless as a dove. I don’t trust her with any of my property, much less any property of mine that is a potential weapon.”
“You really are a religious nut and you twist the Bible around to suit your wants.”
“Don’t we all do that at some point or another. I’m not perfect, you’re not either and she definitely isn’t perfect, now let me fix that pot lid.”
I then fix the screw on the pot lid and get back to serving.
My coworker tells me’ “Don’t ask me for any help again.”
I begin to read the news on my phone’s WAP browser until the evening rush begins.
Suddenly a belligerent transvestite walks in and demands to be served. I, unfortunately, have to take his order.
He begins to flirt with me. I try to ignore him. He begins to make sexual sounds and noises while screaming my name, so I call the owner.
The cook yells at me “Take his order!”
“No, not while he makes orgasm sounds at me.”
“Oh, I thought you were a virgin.”
“I am, but I’m not stupid either.”
“Yeah well, I should call the police on you for discriminating against him ’cause he’s gay.”
“Oh, but it’s okay for him to sexually harass me?”
“He’s just playing with you. He’s really a stand-up man.”
“Well, I’m not waiting on him unless the owner makes me. I have rights too you know.”
The owner comes from her house and forces the transvestite to leave. We are all instructed not to take orders from him anymore.
“Now you’re playing favorites.” The cook tells the owner.
“Now, you know good and well that that customer has caused trouble in the past like placing orders and not paying for them.”
I’m then instructed to leave the building for a minute while the owner, my coworker and the cook talk. I know they’re talking about me, but I want to keep this job because I enjoy the extra income.
Soon they call me back in.
We work almost in silence until the shift ends. I go home and straight to bed, happy that I am off tomorrow.