July 27th, 2012
"Boys!" I yell in a mild tone.
I looked up, hoping I wasn't bothering other patrons, but they weren't giving me a second look. I get up from my chair and sternly walk towards them. They playfully run back to me, running around my legs like a school of fish, and take their seats at the table. Just at the right time, too, the food was on its way.
"Thank you, it looks great," I said.
The food is improving as my hunger pangs beat like a drum.
"Could I have a Sprite, please?" I ask. I didn't look up at the waitress. I was too consumed with the boys.
I divvy up the food among the men and glance up. The waitress is still hovering over me. I didn't know if she was expecting her tip now or…..
"Sprite?" she said, wanting me to add some liquor to it.
"Please?" I said, not sure exactly what more she wanted me to say.
We all began to stuff food in our mouths when the waitress returned with the drink. She placed it on the table and walked away.
At this moment, there was peace and harmony in the world. The birds were singing, there was light from the heavens, and it turned out great.
"Uh, OH!" Nico shouts.
I hear a bang and then the rush of soda and ice slamming against the table. The Sprite spills out of the large cup and runs towards the edge of the square, panel brown surface until it cascades itself, like a waterfall, onto my lap.
I didn't flinch. I never look down. I continue to stare forward and finish my French fry. Without looking, I grab a napkin and wipe my face off the grease. I glance over at my son. His eyes are as big as saucers. The liquid continued to drip, soaking into the front of my pants, the wet soda completing my fashionable, damp look. The rain had already started earlier.
The waitress came over with a towel; she heard the bang and splash. She had a smirk on her face. I'm sure she was enjoying the show.
"Would you like a new one?" she asked condescendingly.
I paused momentarily, watching the boys run again down the aisle. This time, they split like fighter jets. One left. One right.
"Yeah," I said, getting out of my seat, "I'll have another."
Like a member of a search party, I look for my boys. I find one under a table and another behind the serving bar.
We walk back to our seats, where I find our drink waiting for us. She placed the Sprite in a Styrofoam cup with a secured lid this time.
Christopher picks up the cup to take a quick swig from the straw, but the sizeable 16-inch cup slips from his hand and breaks on the table. This time, the soda didn't flow out. It just dumped over onto my lap.
"Hahaha," I laugh out loud.
Christopher, my son, squeals with laughter right back.
The waitress walks over to me, the only one not laughing. "Would you like to take the rest of the food to go?" She asked with a forceful tone.
"No," I replied, "will just stay a little longer. Another Sprite?" I asked with fear in my tone.
She stared at me, but her mind trick wouldn't work.
The boys stood on their chairs and had a great time; anything was better than being home. The waitress returned with another cup and another Sprite.
"Here you go, sir," she said while handing me the cup.
I reached up for it but mishandled the handoff, and like a dropping ball, the cup landed on my lap, splitting the sides. Soda was free-flowing over my legs and carpet.
I looked at the waitress, and she looked at me. Our eyes locked as if we were in a staring contest.
Ahem- I clear my throat, "I'll take it to go."
663 words
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