The girls

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Hey my names marlin and I am a nineteen year old who's saving to move to London and currently live in plane old Manchester. I work as a waitress in the local American diner. Anyway enough about me and let's cut to the chase. I was at work on the night shift and it was Saturday night because I had no other option but to clean tables and take orders. I walked over to the only customer in the diner he was sitting alone at one of the Booths staring out the window obviously in deep thought. 'Hey so what can I get you?' I asked with a fake smile and tried to sound cheery which failed. 'Can I have a coke and some fries please?' he said I pulled out my pencil,noted it down 'sure you can Mel will me over with your drink' I put my little note pad into my pocket and made my way to the kitchen. I came out the kitchen and Mel was over at the table serving his drink when a Big group of girls burst through the door giggling and repeating the 'oh my god really?' and 'she sure did' before another eruption of giggles.'Hey matty! you going to jasmine's party tonight... you should tots come I mean your the life I the party right?' an overly exited girl shouted from one annoying table of giggly girls. 'No I... I...am not in he mood. sorry girls I just can make it tonight' Matty smiled at them and there laughter stopped immediately 'marli? are you going?' the girls asked with puppy eyes. I walked over to get there order 'no sweetie...am working sorry' I said with sarcasm on the sweetie bit. 'Fine!' she shouted and stormed out with her perfect posse I stood there with my hands up as they all stormed out. Mel came running out from behing the bar area laughing her head off 'did you see that bitches face!' She grabbed my hand and began jumping and squealing like a teenage fan girl 'it was a picture' the boy mumbles with a cheeky smile. 'Oh fuck! ...Oh shit... I'll get your fries' Mel face palms as she pushes through the double doors and gets yelled at off of Darrel because of the swearing again. I clap my hands and laugh at her.

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