House Rules

Medicine

The pretty waitresses who took your orders seemed to speak only to Erik, bringing him refills and asking about the quality of this meal as though genuinely interested. She only looked your way when she absolutely had to, like to bring your French toast, bacon, and eggs.

If you were petty you’d tell her that his roster was already full so she should pick a different customer to bother. You could count all of her teeth as she grinned over juice. Juice! She was fawning all over him forcing him to drink refills as though he were dehydrated just to have a reason to be at the table. Her fourth time over he placed his hand over his glass to stop her from refilling it. He was so calm.

“I could use a refill,” you speak up touching your empty glass.

“What did you have,” she asks begrudgingly and it’s funny because she never asked him what he had. Somehow she just remembered that. You look at Erik and he’s just eating away at his pancakes, unphased.

“Orange juice. Thank you.”

She leaves without another word.

“You just gone let her disrespect you like that?,” he whispers suddenly causing your fork to pause in your hand. “You come here with ya man, got this bitch all in his face and you tell her ‘thank you’?” His head shakes in disapproval. “Either you really don’t care or you scared to handle your shit. Which is it?”

You blink as your mouth opens then closes considering how to respond. You were just being mature.

“Someone has to be the bigger person in these situations,” you whisper back. “You can’t go off on everyone who does something you don’t appreciate, it’s called being responsible.”

“It’s called being afraid of conflict. You afraid to rock the boat cuz you can’t back the shit up with ya hands if it comes to it.”

“Wow, really? So I don’t start drama because I’m afraid is what you’re saying?”

“You don’t speak up and assert yourself because you’re scared of what might happen when you can’t control the outcome. It’s happening here with that waitress, with us in our situation, and I bet it happens on your job too. Worst case scenario here is you make a scene. You ain’t losing much if…,” he trails off and the waitress returns with your refill before turning to eye down Erik asking him if he wants the bill together or separate. She was far too close to him for your liking, draping her arm across the back of his booth.

“Sit on the man’s lap why don’t you, that might get his attention,” you say quietly. Her eyes zip to yours, confused. Attitude written in her features and in her pose as she plops her other hand on her hip. 

“Either sit on his lap and try your luck or give him some space. It’s up to you.” She looks down at him and he raises his eyebrow in response leaving the decision up to her. The space between him and the table is so narrow she’d have to press her way and risk looking more desperate than she already appeared.. In your eyes. Something told you Erik’s ego and his penis would appreciate it if she did risk it for him. Unfortunately for him, she doesn’t. She leaves to combine the meals on one check and returns sitting it in the middle of the table, walking off with a polite and distant nod to you. Erik grabs the book and pays cash, extra tip. It throws you off when you notice, but you don’t question it. However, it does makes you wonder..