My boon companion.

(3) Forgiving

"Please can I order the set of six-triple-honey glazed-buffalo wings, with spicy/cheesy chips, and a Diet Coke with that also," I ordered.

The waitress seemed to pay no attention to me, which wasn't a big surprise, but highly rude. Every time I go out to eat with Max, all the waitresses always drool over him. He loves the attention, and he loves to play with their feelings too. FUCKBOI, but he my best friend.

"Uh.. what would you like sir?" The waitress said in a flirtatious voice. She pushed out her chest, making it even more obvious that she has a silicone chest.

"You're from Texas?" He raised an eyebrow, with a devious smirk on his face.

"Yes sir," the blonde smiled.

The waitress had short, wavy blonde hair. She had hazel brown eyes, which was covered by horrible clumps of mascara; like in middle school when you went for the spider-lash look. She was slim, with slender hips, and gigantic breasts. Her breasts were totally fake, as her chest just looked distorted from the rest of her body. However, I'm not going to deny the fact that she was beautiful. I quote 'beautiful', but in addition, she wasn't actually pretty.

"What brings you to the cold-miserable part of this world?" He referred to Britain.

"Internship," she smiled, twirling her shoulder length hair.

"Well For starters, the mixed cracker and cheese combo, with a bottle of ice-cold Malbec wine, for my wife and I will do divinely," he smiled generously at the young woman. She must be a college student, that's no older than twenty-two.

The girl and I were both shocked. Who was Max referencing to?

"Oh.. mkay. Y-y'all married?" The blonde gasped, before giving me a disgusted look.

"Yes, is that a problem? Because I'd like my starter to be here promptly," Max said in a sterner voice, with an expressionless look on his face.

"Y-yes, r-right away sir," she bowed before grabbing our starter menu's and scurrying off.

"Who said I wanted boring ass crackers, with a piece of shitty cheese?" I complained.

"Well I wanted to share a starter with you, and I know your greedy ass would just yam off the honey glazed buffalo wings, so...-"

"So... I hate blue, green, and goat cheese-"

"Who said we're having just 'blue, green, and goat cheese'?" He imitated the last part.

"Don't cut me bitch," I rolled my eyes.

"You just cut me, so shut the fuck up," he chuckled whilst I sighed.

Our language when we're not in our profession, or around certain people, is so vulgar.

"Why did you order something so basic?" I asked, slightly annoyed.

"Because I wanted to try something new, and I know you'll like it. It's not just the usual parmesan, cheddar, blue, or goat cheese you'd probably hear on a daily basis. These cheeses are extraordinary! Also, these crackers are different as well, so shut up and you'll see," he loosened his green tie, and the first few buttons of his shirt.

"Whatever," I sighed, looking down at my phone for the time. The time read 18:05.

"You always do this. You complain about the food I order you, but once you try it you're like 'mhm! Daddy you were right, it tastes delicious!'," he mocked.