The Forgotten One

Chapter Five

              After classes were out I made my way through the sea of students and walked quickly across the street and down to Betty’s. There were already large groups of students seated at the tables and standing around outside when I stepped in the door. Nobody took any notice of me, in the large crowd, and so I made my way to the small bar and found the first waitress I could. She was short, probably no more than five feet and two inches, and had fire red hair that was obviously from a bottle. The thick layer of makeup on her face appeared to be painted on with a roller brush, and she was wearing he shortest blue polyester uniform I had ever seen. Her white apron was tied around her waist and an assortment of pens with chewed lids stuck out of the pocket, along with an order book.

              “What do you want kid? You can seat yourself.” The waitress looked up from the register, disinterested.

              “I’m Madison. I’m looking for Carol.” I cleared my throat and shifted from one foot to another.

              “Oh!” Her eyes got narrower and she looked me over, inspecting me. “Well, you found her. Go on, get in the back and get a uniform. They’re above the lockers on the shelf. Should be something that fits you back there. Come find me when you’re changed.”

              I quickly followed orders and found myself in the same awkward and too short uniform. I tugged at the back of it, desperately trying to cover as much of my thighs as possible. When I was sure that I couldn’t cover any more of my skin, I came out of the kitchen and found Carol serving coffee to several truckers lined up at her counter. She grinned and swayed her hips as she went to get them pie and they all watched her, eating up every second of her display. I was guessing her tip jar overflowed at night.

              “You ever done this before?” Carol looked me over and made a face. “Next time wear a little more makeup, okay? The guys like it.”

              “Sure.” I wiped my hair back from my face and looked around. The place was so packed there were hardly any seats empty. Groups of kids stood in the parking lot, waiting to get a seat. “And no. I have never had a job before.”

              “Great.” I could see the frustration on her face. “Look, it’s easy. You ask them if you can get them a drink. Fill the drink orders over there, keep the coffee cups full, and get them what they ask for, like napkins, ketchup, whatever. I’ll take the orders. When it slows down I’ll help you learn.”

              I spent the next several hours running around trying to seat people and keep drink orders straight. Every so often I would run orders out to tables when Carol was too busy to keep up. By early evening everything calmed down and all the school kids were gone. There were a few families sitting and eating dinner and the bar seats were full of truckers still drinking coffee. Carol took me to a table in the back with the menu and went over it with me. She showed me how to abbreviate for special requests on the order pad and we ran through drill after drill of what questions to ask with each order. There were two other waitresses that were counting out their tips and filling sugar jars at the counter, getting ready to leave for the day. Each of them came and handed me a small stack of bills.

              “What’s this?” I looked at the small pile of money in front of me.