Not This Time

Nina: August 31, 1983

     I slid a rag over one of the diner tables with a tired sigh. I'd been working since around two in the afternoon and Candice was late for her shift again. I could hear Luke, my manager, talking to someone sitting at the counter, but not what he was saying. The counter was his section; I tried not to worry about anyone else's sections but my own. I leaned over to wipe down the vinyl seats as the door chime indicated the entrance of a new customer.
     "Welcome to Dolly's," I called out without looking up.
     "How's it goin', sweet cheeks?" a guy's voice responded from the door. I rolled my eyes. I didn't even have to look up to know who had just stepped in. I ignored the comment and continued wiping tables as the customers waltzed by. I felt an unexpected slap on my ass as they passed. I shot up and turned with a glare, but didn't respond otherwise; I wasn't allowed to snap at the customers.
     The man who had spoken was a tall blonde with an over-confident smirk. In almost any other situation, a confident smirk would have given me butterflies, but this guy made me nauseous. He and his two other friends had been coming into the diner more frequently since I'd started working there. They liked to sit in my section and harass me. I bit back annoyance as they plopped down in the booth next to the one I'd just finished cleaning.
     "I'll be with you in a minute," I grumbled, heading back to the counter. Slapping the rag over the other side of the counter with one hand, I reached across to grab a small notepad and pencil with the other, but mid-reach, something made me pause. There weren't many people in the diner at this hour, but I could feel someone's eyes on me. I didn't want to look up for fear of making accidental eye contact with whoever it was, that was always awkward.
     Finally assuring myself that it was just one or more of the hosers in the booth staring at my ass, I took my items and turned to face them. Sure enough, Blondie was looking my way and muttering something to the guy sitting next to him. With another roll of my eyes, I stepped back over to the table and hovered the tip of my pencil over the notepad. "What can I get you?" I sighed.
     "How about a quickie?" Blondie's buddy suggested with a wide grin. I frowned at the unflattering mullet his coppery-red hair had been styled into. Blondie and his other friend both laughed. What was I supposed to do? I didn't know how to answer that. I wanted to flip him off and refuse him service, but I knew that Luke would probably have to take some sort of disciplinary action if I did that.
     Unsure of what else to do, I simply turned around and walked away. The three guys whistled and cat-called after me, undeterred. I pushed into the kitchen and took a deep breath to calm my nerves. I hated dealing with them, but they were in my section almost every night. One would think I'd have figured out how to handle the situation by now. It was tards like those that helped people believe the rumors about me.
     I could understand when people gossiped that I'd run away from home, that was technically true, but somehow that rumor had evolved from calling me a runaway to calling me a prostitute. At first it was just a few whispers here and there when I'd arrived in Sayreville last year, but now everyone had heard the lie and it wasn't dying off like I'd hoped it would. I'd never spent a whole night outside wherever I was living since I'd gotten to the 80s, and yet somehow the rumor flourished.
     "Nina!" Luke called, "There's a table out here!"
     "I'll be out in a second, Luke!" I called back, though every ounce of me wanted to hide in the freezer, or somewhere, until the three guys were gone. I didn't want to go back out there.
     "You alright, hon?" Dolores asked warily as she took a burger off the fryer. Dolores was the owner's wife, which was why the diner was called Dolly's. The woman was older than me by far, but not much bigger in stature. She was only working in the restaurant because she enjoyed cooking and serving people. I knew that Dolores could probably talk her husband into banning those three stooges from the restaurant, and that she'd probably do it for me, too, but it wouldn't stop the rumors. With a half-hearted smile, I nodded in response to the cook's question. Dolores mirrored me. "Alright."
     "Nina!" Luke shouted. I grumbled and turned to face the kitchen door, bracing myself for the verbal harassment. I took a deep breath and pushed through the kitchen door with my notepad. With an attempt at a smile, I stepped back over to the table with the three creeps. Blondie grinned as I approached.
     "Ready for that quickie now, sweet cheeks?" he chuckled. My smile instantly vanished, and I tapped the tip of the pencil against the notepad in frustration.
     "Hi, my name is Nina," I said, emphasizing my name but trying to keep my voice level, "I'll be your server tonight. Can I start you out with some drinks?" I looked up at them from my notepad. My mouth was pressed into a thin line; I couldn't even try to force a smile. Blondie's other friend made a kissy face at me before chuckling and leaning on the wall. I tried not to react as I took in his dark brown hair that fell around his face in handsome curls. He looked like a boy toy for some richie house wife.
     "I'd like a Coke," Curly said.
     "Bottle or glass?"
     "Bottle," Curly scoffed, as if it was obvious. I looked down at my notepad again and doodled a little, but didn't bother writing down the order. I wasn't going to have anymore orders between now and bringing back the drinks.
     Blondie and Red muttered to each other as I waited for their orders. They only broke their conversation when I sighed impatiently.
     "Same for us," Blondie added finally, turning away from Red to face me. Three sets of brown eyes stared at me expectantly. I raised an eyebrow and added a "3" to my doodle, but, again, didn't actually write the orders down.
     "Anything else?" I reached into my apron and pulled out three straws, not thinking about the fact that they'd literally just ordered bottles. As I set the straws on the table, Blondie reached out and grabbed my hand.
     "Well, whenever you're ready for that quickie, I've got a nice tip for you." Blondie's smirk returned as he chuckled. I yanked my hand back and stepped away, slipping my order book and pencil into my apron pocket.
     "So three Cokes," I grumbled as I turned, "I'll be right back with your drinks." The cat calls and laughs rang out again as I walked away. I kicked open the half-door on the counter and glanced over at Luke, who was leaning in the kitchen window, talking to Dolores.
     I looked up as the door swung back behind me, and my eyes fell, for a brief second, on the man sitting at the far end of the counter, staring into his coffee. I considered asking if he'd like me to top off his coffee, but thought the better of it. This was Luke's section. He could handle it. Ignoring the man and letting out yet another deep breath, I grabbed three bottles of Coca-Cola and kicked the counter door open again.
     As I shuffled towards the table with the three Cokes, my co-worker stumbled through the door. I frowned at her and the other girl shrugged apologetically. Normally, I liked Candice, but not when her poor punctuality forced me to wait on idiots like the three tards in my section.
     "Candy, you're late again," Luke reminded Candice as she pushed into the kitchen. I glanced up at the clock on the wall. The hour hand of the clock was pointed to the eleven, and the minute hand was almost to twelve. I'd been here nearly a whole hour longer than scheduled; there was no way I was staying any longer than I had to. No more creeps trying to make unwanted advances. Just one more strained attempt to be polite and then I was done. I set the Coke bottles down on the table and smiled another tight-lipped smile.
     "My shift has ended," I began, "Your new server will be here in a moment to take your order. Thank you for your business. Have a nice night." I turned away and began untying my apron before they could get a word in.
     "Well, I didn't order the strip show, but if that's what you're into," one of the guys called out. I wasn't even sure which one had said it. I just ignored them all as I escaped into the kitchen. I could hear Luke barking at them not to speak to his waitresses that way, as if they hadn't been doing so since they walked in.
     "You out of here, then?" Dolores snickered as I tossed my apron onto its hook and narrowly managed to hang it.
     I took my time card out of its slot. "You bet," I retorted as I clocked out and then leaned on the wall. I smiled over at Dolores and took a minute to breathe before putting my time card back.
     "Goodnight, hon," Dolores chuckled. I grabbed my purse and threw it over my shoulder as Dolores returned her attention to whatever was on the fryer. I blew a kiss to the cook and waved as I stepped out of the kitchen.
     "See ya, Luke!" I called, only barely glancing back at the bar as I marched toward the door. I was already halfway out the door when I caught his response.
     "Yeah, yeah!" Luke yelled out from behind the counter.
     The door swung closed behind me as I escaped into the warm night. Outside the homes of Sayreville, the city generally fell asleep around 9pm. Any party people would head into the bigger cities to go clubbing, so there weren't really people out besides those few of us who worked late shifts.
     I loved working the late shift for that reason; it was always nice to walk down the sidewalk by yourself without someone whistling at you. Almost immediately after I thought it, a whistle sounded behind me. I winced, but ignored it.
     I was only about a block from the diner, so I'd imagine that it was those three creeps.
     "Hey baby, I got a twenty with your name on it if you stop walking now," one of them shouted. I kept walking, ignoring them. It was all I could do.
     "You know you'll enjoy it too!" another one hollered. I picked up my pace, digging through my purse for my pocket knife. I didn't know how close they were, but their comments were making me uncomfortable. Usually, nobody was that open or bold about it. "Come on, sweet cheeks!"
     I glanced over my shoulder when I heard their heavy footfalls start after me faster. In a burst of panic, I started sprinting too. I knew it would only make them more eager to chase me, but I didn't want them anywhere near me.
     I ducked into an alley just around the curve in the road, trying to take advantage of the sparse lighting on that section of the street and hoping that they didn't see me. I reached the end of the alley and turned to face the opening. There wasn't any light at my end, so I scrunched myself up into the corner, praying they didn't look this way. The trash can next to me wasn't much to hide behind, but I tried nonetheless.
     I watched around the side of the trash can as Curly looked down the alley and smacked Blondie's arm. Both Blondie and Red looked over at Curly, and he nodded down the alley. I tried to press myself more against the wall, but it was useless. They all turned into the alley, towards where I was hiding.
     As they approached, Curly kicked an empty trash can into the one I was hiding behind, forcing me out of the corner I was squished into when both trash cans fell toward me. I stumbled to my feet and pressed myself against the back wall, finally getting a hold of my pocket knife. Red held up a twenty-dollar bill as they continued forward.
     "Leave me alone," I growled as the trio drew closer, pulling out my pocket knife and pointing it in thier direction. They all three paused and stared at the knife for a minute, and then they laughed. My confidence wavered a little, but I still held the knife. "I mean it!"
     Red held up the twenty again. "We're willing to pay," he justified, still laughing. They all started inching closer at the same time that I started edging along the wall, trying to get back out to the entrance.
     I managed to get along one of the side walls when Blondie made a lunge for me. He knocked the knife out of my shaking hand with ease. Startled, I glanced over to the knife, giving him ample opportunity to pin me against the wall.
     "Stop!" I shrieked, partially in surprise, and partially in terror.
     Blondie leaned in close with a sickening grin and said, "I'm still waiting on that quickie, Nina." He emphasized my name as I had done before. With every inch closer her got, the more my skin crawled.
     "I'm not a hooker!" I told them, my voice shaking more than I'd have liked it to. Blondie looked back at his friends and they all laughed some more; they didn't believe me. Seeing no other option, I brought my knee up with some force right into Blondie's balls.
     Blondie cried out in pain and, just as I'd hoped he would, staggered backwards, away from me. I tried to run, but Red grabbed me around my arms and waist and pulled me back into the alley. I cried out for someone to help, but there wasn't anyone around.
     Red put me down on the ground and held my arms at my sides so that I couldn't swipe at anyone as Blondie, still hunched over in pain, stepped over to me and grabbed at my kicking legs. I called out again until Red put a hand over my mouth. That didn't stop me screaming, but it muffled the screams substantially. I was going to be raped and there was nothing I could do about it.
     "Hey!" another man's voice snapped, "Leave her alone!"