I'll wait for you (Dayasco)

The waiter

The restaurant was packed tonight, a symphony of clinking glasses and boisterous laughter filled the air, the scent of sizzling steak and mesquite smoke, was tinged with a potent scent of tequila. I sat across from Ben, the candlelight reflecting the amber glow of his tan. He was handsome, undeniably so, but his words were like sandpaper on my ears, grating on my nerves. 

"So, you're a writer? That's... interesting. I guess it's more a hobby than a real job, right?" he said, his voice condescending. I felt a blush crawl up my neck. My bright coral dress felt suddenly suffocating, its vibrant color making me feel out of place against the dusty browns of the restaurant.

He continued on, his words tumbling over each other, a relentless barrage of self-importance and thinly veiled misogyny. I could barely register his words, my gaze being drawn to the figure moving effortlessly between the closely packed tables, our waiter Daya. His broad shoulders and kind smile, were a stark contrast to the arrogant swagger of the man across from me.

His emerald green eyes, stark against his tanned face, were lost in a world of self-importance, oblivious to the silent yearning in my gaze. I felt a surge of frustration, and a sudden awareness of the distance between Ben and me. The initial thrill of our online conversations, the carefully crafted persona, felt like a cheap costume now, being stripped away by the stark reality of his narcissism.

My eyes met Daya's briefly as he refilled my water glass. "Thank you" I say softly, his smile, was warm and inviting, showing off his perfectly straight white teeth. He was everything Ben wasn't, genuine, helpful and respectful. Where I actually was seemed to  fade away as my eyes were interlocked with Daya's, leaving only the quiet thuds of my heart and the flicker of the candle between us.

Ben excused himself to use the restroom, leaving me alone with my thoughts and a horrible feeling of loneliness, I didn't want to have to go home and tell Irene I'd been on a date with a complete ass hole again. I was brought back out of my thoughts as I watched as Daya, his hands managing to move quickly but with such skilled movements, delivering food with grace and a quiet confidence that sent a shiver down my spine.

"He's a real piece of work, isn't he?" Daya said, his voice a low rumble, a comforting contrast to Ben's grating drawl. I looked up, startled, surprised he'd even noticed me at all.

"You... you heard him?" I asked, my voice barely a whisper.

"Impossible not to," he replied, his eyes holding mine, like a symbol of respect. "Not many men can talk down to a woman dressed like that." His gaze lingered on my dress, a faint smile playing at his lips.

"I... I think I'm going to leave," I mumbled, a wave of relief washing over me, having found a few confidence in speaking to Daya.

"Good idea," he said, his voice firm but kind. "He doesn't deserve your time."

"You know, you're the only one who's actually acknowledged that I'm even here," I admitted, a small smile tugging at my lips.

"You're not invisible," Daya assured me, his voice a gentle reprimand. "And you deserve better than that."

"Do you think I should just walk out?" I asked, a mischievous glint in my eye.

"That," he said, his smile widening, "is probably the most brilliant thing I've heard all night."

As Ben emerged from the restroom, his phone glued to his hand and his fly undone, I stood up, my heart pounding against my ribs.

"I'm sorry, Ben, but I don't think this is working," I said, my voice firm, trying to act as if I was strong and confident.

His face contorted with a mixture of anger and confusion. "Why? What's going on?" he asked, his voice rising. I could tell he was ready to yell at me infront of a resturant full of people.

"Honestly? You're a bit of a jerk," I said, my anger flaring. The anger that had been simmering, fueled by his arrogance and entitlement, finally boiled over.

Daya stepped closer to me, a silent guardian at my side. He didn't say a word, but his presence was a solid wall of protection, his gaze fixed on Ben making a clear statement of support for me.

Ben sputtered, a wave of fury washing over his face. I didn't bother waiting for his explanation, his flimsy excuses as to why he'd treated me like this today. I simply walked out, the sound of his angry voice fading behind me and begging to blend into the western style music which played through the resturant.

Daya walked me outside, his smile a ray of sunshine in the cold evening air. His eyes were a warm blue, and they seemed to hold a depth of understanding that made my heart skip a beat.

"You did good," he said, his voice a gentle murmur. "And you know, you're actually kind of brilliant, and being a writer is a really cool job, I'd love to do something artsy like that. Rather than wait tables dressed like this." He said softly as he tugged on the shirt and western style waistcoat he had to wear as uniform.

"Are you going to be okay getting home? Do you need to call someone?" Daya murmured softly, as he glanced into the restaurant making sure Ben wasn't anywhere to be seen. "Yeah I should be, I'll get an Uber and just head straight home" I said, a smile forming on my face. "Good, that's good" he smiled back. "Umm well here, everyone who eats here is meant to get one", as he went back inside and returned a moment later with a pink cowboy hat which he pressed down onto my head softly.

"Gee, thanks" I say laughing, any disappointment I felt from Ben suddenly being lifted. "And here" he said whilst he took out his book for writing down orders and scribbled down his number onto it before handing it to me. "Text me when you're home so I know that jerk doesn't have you tied up somewhere, or don't that's okay too" he smiled nervously this time. "I think I will, thank you for everything Daya" I say sweetly, before waving and disappearing off into my Uber.

Maybe the date hadn't been a total bust after all, in-fact I think it was actually quite successful, I just so happened to be on a date with the wrong person.