Short story clip

I used to write a lot of these short story clips, which were based off of prompts I got. I'm not posting the prompt because I don't remember if it was copyrighted. I believe it was a picture of a young lady in a cafeteria with her head resting on the table. But anyway, I'm posting this because I haven't posted anything in days, and the next part of Jerome's diary hasn't been typed up yet, but I did finish some more of it. (Beware of typos I wrote this a year ago)

To Drown One's Sorrows

I started wiping down the tables. The little cafe looked like it had seen its last costumer and I was eager to get home. I pictured a warm chair in front of a comfortable fire. A tray of tea at my side. A comfortable robe around my shoulders. Pleasant picture, right? Actually, I only had a cold cheerless attic room with only one hard backed chair, no fire and definitely no tea. A patched and faded robe, which hardly kept out any cold.

“Move it, Andy!” my boss yelled. I winced and flicked a crumb off a table. When the bell on the door jingled, I looked up. Not another costumer! My brain screamed. I felt my legs wobble. I had been on them all day, now I would have to be on them longer. I felt a dull throbbing in the back of my head. I just wanted to lie down and go to sleep. I wiped my greasy hands on my dirty apron and turned to stare at her.

The newcomer was a strange looking young woman. Her light brown hair, was pulled back in a messy bun. Her face was pale, dejected and dirty. She wore a faded brownish jacket, greyish t-shirt and torn jeans. She plopped down at one of the tables. I stared at her through glazed eyes. My boss threw a plastic spoon at me. I caught it, shoved it into my apron pocket and limped over to the girl. The message had been clear- Get your skinny self over to that table and get her order!

“Can I help you Miss?” I asked quietly. The woman stared at me.

“Two lemonades and two ice creams!” she said dully. I blinked then looked at the empty seat across from her.

“You expecting someone?” I asked. Her eyes narrowed.

“That's none of your business, waiter!” she snarled. I shrugged painfully and stumbled towards the kitchen. I guess she was right, it was none of my business!

I caught the boss's eye. He scowled at me. I grabbed two metal cups and pumped them full of ice cream then stuck spoons in them. Then I filled to glasses with lemonade. I did not put the lemon slices on the rim. I stuck straws in the lemonade. Then glancing around, I saw my boss was not watching me. A small smile tugged at the corner of my mouth. I knew that I would probably get sacked if he saw the sloppy way I was serving the girl. I slammed the stuff on her table. Then I stomped back to the kitchen.

I finished cleaning the stove and counters, then moved on to empty the coffee machine. The girl had started on her lemonade but was still alone. I began to pray that her friend would show up or she would leave. I glanced over at the boss. Maybe he would let me go home while he stayed with the girl. The boss tossed me the keys.

“Lock up when she leaves!” he said.

“What?” I yelled, “You can't leave me here!”

“I just did!” the boss said coolly. Then he grabbed his jacket and left. I stamped over to the girl. I held up my wrist, looked at my watch and began tapping my foot. The girl stared at me with bright blue eyes.

“I think you should be sacked!” she said coolly. I felt my eyes narrowing.

“Well, thanks!” I snapped, “But you do realize this cafe has to close?” The way she was looking at me with unblinking eyes was beginning to get on my nerves.

“When is that?” she asked her gaze finally drifting away from me.

“Midnight!” I admitted. I could feel my face growing hot. The girl turned back to me, her eye brows raised.

“You do realize that it is not even ten?” she asked.

I stomped away from her. Everything was going wrong. If I had not needed the job so bad, I would have quit long ago. The work and the pay were lousy. And the boss was totally unfair. I grabbed a rag and began to wash the windows. I had just done that yesterday but I decided I might as well do them again.

“Don't you want the extra pay?” the girl asked suddenly.

“Huh?” I growled.

“Don't you get paid for working over time?” she asked.

“I get paid the same whether I work for twelve or two hours.” I said curtly. The girl raised her eyebrows.

“Are you serious?” she asked.

“I am always serious!” I snapped. She rolled her eyes and took a sip of her lemonade. I scrubbed at the windows. I was determined not to talk to her anymore. She was an annoying little creature. I just wanted to go home.

“What are you doing here?” I finally asked after I could bare the silence no longer. She sipped her lemonade in silence then poked at her ice cream. I repeated the question. She looked up.

“I am drowning my sorrows in lemonade!” she said curtly. I winced.

“That is not funny!” I hissed.

“I am serious!” the girl cried angrily. I raised my eyebrows.

“Does it work?” I wished I had bitten my tongue off the minute the words left my mouth. She slammed her lemonade glass down onto the table and buried her face in her arms and began to cry. I stood there holding the rag and feeling totally helpless and stupid.

I slunk into the kitchen, rung the rag out and dropped it into a tub of soapy water. Then I pulled some biscuits out of heater, put them on a tray and walked back to the girl. I dumped the tray awkwardly onto the table.

“You hungry?” I asked awkwardly.

“I can't afford it!” she screamed, “Take it away.” This was getting worse every minute.

“Well I figure since I am being underpaid the boss owes me them anyway.” I said nervously. The girl lifted her head and stared at the food. Her face was tear stained and miserable. I looked away.

“Why are you giving them to me?” she asked in a quivering voice. Her eyes never left the biscuits. I figured she must have been starving.

“You looked like you could use them.” I said lamely. Her eyes narrowed.

“And you couldn't use them?” she asked bitterly, “I am no beggar!
“I'm not hungry!” I lied. My stomach immediately started growling. I coughed to cover it up with a cough. She made a face.

“Do you always cough in front of your customers?” she asked. I whirled and stomped towards the kitchen. I was not going to talk to her anymore.

I began shutting down the machines, I did not care if I had to throw her out. I was not going stay one minute longer.

“I am sorry!” Startled I dropped a box of coffee beans. They scattered all over the floor. I winced. Then I glared at the girl who was standing in the kitchen door.

“You're not supposed to be back here!” I said curtly.

“I know!” she sighed as she pushed stray wisps of hair out of her face, “But I felt like apologizing. I was not very nice to you Mr. er... sir.”

“Everyone calls me Andrew.” I sighed, “Don't have a last name.”

“I am Lisa.” the girl said quietly, “Lisa Holder.”

Their was an awkward pause. She stared at the floor and I stared at the ceiling. My eyes followed the pattern of the squares on the drop ceiling. I heard Lisa scuffing her feet. I looked at her. “Care for some more lemonade, Lisa Holder?”

“I still have a glass of it.” she said bitterly.

“It takes more then two glasses to drown one's sorrows!” I said. I could feel a smile tugging at the corner of my mouth.

“What about the other glass?” she asked.

“Drink it and I will bring you more!” I said staunchly.

“Don't bother!” she said curtly, “I doubt my friend is coming, so I might as well go home!”

“If no one drinks it, all this lovely lemonade will go to waste!” I said as I held up the pitcher. She frowned.

“Put it in the fridge idiot!” she said coolly. I shook my head stubbornly.

“No room for this pitcher.”

“I can't drink it all!” She protested.

“I will help.” I said casually, “I have plenty of sorrows to sigh about.”

We sat down at the table and finished up the entire pitcher of lemonade. Then we ate all the ice cream that was in the tin cups. I think that was the only time the small Westerly Cafe was opened until midnight. Of course their was no doubt about it, that it was the only time I ever enjoyed working there.