Elara [ON HOLD]

4

Okay, time to confess. I do fart. I've farted since I was a baby, because I'm human, and we all fart.

I prefer to do in in private, (I rather be respectful and avoid an embarrassing situation), but sometimes that's not something I can decide. What I mean with all of this is that the situation back in the bus was out of control.

I was torn between the driver with a cold and the woman who probably ate ten tacos with extra-spicy sauce before getting on the bus.

Yes, we all pay for public transport, but what I didn't pay for was a sauna with inbuilt smell.

"MOM, I'M HOME!" I announced once I entered the house through the back door using my free hand to fan myself.

"Good! Get changed!" I heard her scream from one of the bedrooms. "I want this to work so please honey, don't only change your clothes but your personality too." I could feel her motherly love. "I want you to be a ray of sunshine; don't repeat the little stunt you brought up the last time."

She probably meant that time I accidentally spilled my chicken soup all over one of the buyers. The man was too much of a pervert staring at my mother's breasts, even more when my father was by her side.

Rolling my eyes I obeyed and went to my room. I threw my backpack against the desk and let myself fall on the bed. Thinking about it I decided I would be wearing one of the dresses I inherited from my cousin, since it matched my streaks and was floor-length, (perfect to hide the boots I was going to wear).

"Done!" I sang as I flung a mini-purse that would only carry my phone. After taking a much needed shower, and got rid of the bus's odor, I calmly sat on the couch waiting for my mother to make an appearance.

My father on the other side was a nervous wreck, as he wringed his hands and walked from one side of the living room to the other. He liked punctuality, and our reservation was within ten minutes.

"Remember that time when your mother was feeding a peacock on the Zoo? And then the animal bit her hand? I was trying so hard not to laugh at her astonished expression, since she thought they were inoffensive." He started to nervously laugh at the memory. "You know El?" I hummed and he talked again. "Your dress reminds me of the peacock. The color is the color of its feathers." I didn't know whether if I should take it as a compliment or as an insult, but I couldn't ask because he had already started ranting about the different colors of a peacock's feather.

You see, when my father got nervous instead of keeping quiet and stressing in silence, like my mother and I did, he used to rant about everything and anything.

"We are ready!" My mother sung as she entered the living room in her elegant suit she liked to wear to this kind of occasions. She said it was 'an elegant suit, to keep the business in mind, but being fabulous'.

Once we were on the doorstep, she clapped two times and the lights turned off. We hopped in the car and I checked the time on my phone realizing it would be a long night.

After ten minutes of driving around trying to station on a parking spot, we found one not too far away from the restaurant's entrance. Every single time I signaled a parking spot, some dimwit quickly maneuvered and was somehow able to park before we did.

"Welcome to Belmont Restaurant & Saloon, do you have a reservation?" Asked the woman behind the counter.

"Yes, it's under the name of Amy Roy." Answered my mom.

"Right, follow me." After checking we did have a reservation, she guided us towards our table, where three figures were already seated. I could feel my fathers' embarrassment at our tardiness, but I didn't say a thing.