Set Ways

I was sitting alone, as is my wont! Don’t judge me. I prefer being alone. No one to bother me with silly problems. “My boyfriend doesn’t like me!” Maybe it’s because you whine too much! All I hear is “Blah blah blah!” Back in my day, you keep your problems to yourself like a man and deal with it!

Stop. Just breathe…remember how the doctor looks at you when he takes your blood pressure. That little brown b*****d always tells you to lose weight, get exercise. Whatever. Pshhh………

Ok.

So I was sitting alone when I got a chill. I was the only guest in the restaurant at that time, because I come in one minute before close. That waitress hates me. And she treats me rudely. So I don’t tip. But they can’t do anything about it because the customer is always right, right? I’m the customer! I’m the boss! They’ll wait on me because it’s their GODDAMNED JOB! I PAY THEM! hasffk,g………

Ok.

Focus. You miserable old trout. Tell the story without killing yourself.

So I get a chill. I flagged down the waitress by coughing loudly every time she slithered by. She’s an insufferable little harlot named Pamela. She’s got a touch of devil inside her, that one. No more than eighteen and an unwed mother. I eavesdrop on their conversations. They talk about her baby, she calls it Summer. Really? Summer? What happened to real names, like Martha or Jane? Or Rita? Like Rita Heyworth? I remember Rita Heyworth…she got me through long nights on French beaches. They also talk about me. They call me an old b*****d.

I wasn’t always an old b*****d. But if they want an old b*****d, I’ll give ‘em one.

So I tell Pam to tell the manager to turn up the heat. She scoffs. So I scoff back, louder. Soon we're locked, eyes locked, scoffing louder and louder. Another waitress meanders by, clearly not working. I scoff again, and slam my hand onto the green-flecked tabletop.

SCOFF.

Silence. I win. You can never beat an old man in anything that involves patience. I have more patience than I know what to do with. I have nothing but time. I'm just waiting to die.

Pam stares, and I stare back. The heat, I tell her. Turn it up. She spins on her heel like some sort of harlot ballerina, whispering under her breath. The other waitress nods and whispers back. Within minutes I hear a fan grumble to life. I smile. I'm the boss.

I'm used to getting things my way. Everything is my way. A woman belongs in the kitchen. It's in the Bible. We're evil, all of us, but women doubly so.

I hear a cry. An infant. Pam's b*****d child, somewhere in the back. Probably screaming for her drug-riddled milk. The cry gets louder. I see Pam, with her child. She props the highseat up against the table beside me. The little larva stops crying and stares. 

Pam leaves. I don't know what she's up to, but I will not under any circumstances adopt her garbage baby.

It just watches me. Its doughy, fragile cheeks puffed out like an over-filled beach ball. Its eyes, blue like the linoleum at the doctor's office, just boring holes in me. I flip it off and it giggles.

Pam returns. She asks me, "Did you just flip off my baby?"

"So what if I did? It's staring at me. That's rude."

"SHE is a baby, you old b*****d. That's what they do. You were a baby once too, remember? Or was that too long ago?"

It was too long ago. All I remember is liver spots and a slowly curving spine. My hair turned white, then invisible. My eyes clouded, my fingernails yellowed, my teeth hollowed out. But I'm pretty sure I was never a rude little baby.

"Were you watching me?"

"Of course I was watching you. You don't think I'd leave my daughter alone in a room with you? I was just curious to see if a little innocent baby might get you to show a little humanity."

"Maybe a little service around here will get me to show humanity. My coffee's cold and instead of getting me a refill you plant babies around me."

"You're hopeless."

"So is that baby, with a mother like you."

Pam scoops up her baby like a backhoe and leaves. Did I go too far? No. There is no such thing as too far. I close my eyes and all I can see is that baby, staring at me. It didn't care about anything. Not bills, dead family members, being forgotten. It's just, she's just getting started. And I'm wrapping it all up.

I dig into my wallet. The bill's 3 dollars. I leave 5.