Funny Thing, Life

Part 2: Tongue Tied

I sat at the back table for about ten minutes, nervously glancing at the time on my phone, bouncing my knee in an attempt to be rid of excess anxiety. I had arrived earlier than I had anticipated, so a wait was imminent. I rummaged through the messages on my phone before stopping at his last text. I was lost in thought as I stared at that smiley face emoji. How could one small response without words invoke a reaction of emotion with such strength? Suddenly, I was aware of everyone who was in my vicinity, picking my head up as someone briskly paced by, only to realize they were a member of the wait staff.

Five more minutes passed and now he was late. My stomach tightened and my thigh muscles tensed as the misfired adrenaline took course through my system. I was a bundle of nerves. I felt sick to my stomach, and now I probably couldn't eat. Great! The only thing I could think to do to distract me from my anxiety, was to pull out my gel pens, which I always carried, and draw on the backside of the placemat. I focused on the Christmas party I had just learned I had won the bid for, at the Hartland Mansion. I laid out an idea that came to mind. My concept for a play on "Winter Wonderland", which had landed me the job. I loved Christmas and this job was a huge undertaking, so I had to start planning months in advance.

When I had finished my sketch, I found myself lost in thought. Unbeknownst to me, a waiter had been quietly waiting for me to finish. He quickly brought me back to reality by clearing his throat and asking if I was ready to order. I checked my phone. No text or missed call and it was 12:45. I had been stood up. I asked if I could get five more minutes to go over the menu and apologized for sitting for so long only sipping Ginger Ale. His smile was sympathetic, as though he knew I had been stood up, then he casually nodded before wandering back to the kitchen.

I glanced across the restaurant. It was dead in here except for the five or six patrons sitting at the bar. I slid my phone beside the placemat, leaned my arm on the table to steady my chin in hand and continued to draw. After what seemed to be hours, I checked me phone again. 12:49. I composed myself and accepted that he wasn't coming. I hid behind the menu in case my emotions decided to get the best of me. In a rather depressed state of mind, all that looked good was the self pity indulgent, Fudge Brownie Sundae. However, I'd worked hard to lose the recently accomplished, thirty pounds and 3 dress sizes, so I knew my options were limited to a solemn few, which were under a three hundred calorie count.

As the slender waiter, rounded the corner, he wore an immense smile. In a speedy walk, he headed toward my table, behind him followed a tall man wearing all black, including the baseball hat. My heart skipped a few beats on its way past the good blood pressure mark as the waiter stopped beside my table and threw me a quick wink as he dropped off my lunch date.

"I'm sorry I'm late," he said as he took the chair across from me.

"Okay," was all I could manage. This is real. This. Is. Happening. Zak was sitting across from me right now. We were going to eat lunch together and converse like real people. Wait, as opposed to fake ones? Where was I going with that?

Anyway, there he sat, his piercing blue eyes studying me curiously. I couldn't help but to stare back. They say if you look into someone's eyes for six seconds, it shows a desire to either kill that person or an erotic attraction to them. It takes eight seconds of eye gazing for love at first sight, to be actual. Lets just say I stared way past fatal attraction and crossed the stalker border, before I realized I probably looked like a deer caught in the headlights. I averted my gaze back to the menu shortly before the waiter approached to take the order.

"So, about this," he pulled a fuzzy edged and slightly torn and folded piece of paper from his pocket. I was worried it wasn't mine due to it's deteriorated condition.