Both boys went running down the stretch of open area that separates the bar and eating. They had removed their shoes, leaving them for dead on the video game...
July 27th, 2012
“Boys!” I yell in a mild tone.
I look 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 looking better and better as my hunger pangs begin to 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, as if she wanted me to add some liquor in it.
“Please?” I said, not sure exactly what more she wanted me to say.
We all began to stuff food in our mouth when the waitress returned with the drink. She placed it on the table and walked away.
In this moment there was peace and harmony in the world. The birds were singing, there was light from the heavens, it was turning out great.
"Uh OH!" Nico shouts.
I hear a - bang then the rush of soda and ice slamming against the table. The Sprite spills out of the large cup and makes a run towards the edge of the square, panel brown surface, until it cascades itself, like a water fall, on to my lap.
I don'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 of the grease. I glance over at my son. His eyes are as big as saucers. The liquid continuing to drip, soaking into the front of my pants, the wet soda completing my fashionable wet look the rain had already started earlier.
The waitress came over with a towel; I guess she heard the bang and splash too. 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 for second watching the boys take off running again down the isle. This time they split like fighter jets. One left. One right.
"Yea", 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 seat where I find our drink waiting for us. This time she placed the Sprite in a Styrofoam cup with a secured lid.
Christopher picks up the cup to take a quick swig from the straw, but the large 16 once cup slips from his hand and breaks on the table. This time the soda didn't flow out. It just dumped over on to my lap.
"Hahaha", I laugh out loud.
Christopher, my son, squeals with laugher 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 wasn't going to work.
The boys stood on their chairs and were having a great time, I guess anything was better then being home. The waitress returned with another cup with another Sprite.
"Here you go sir," she said while handed me the cup.
I reached up for it but mishandled the handoff and like a dropping a ball, the cup landed on my lap, splitting the sides. Soda was free flowing over my legs and carpet.
I look 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."
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Christopher Fusaro. The author of Captain Imperfecto.
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