I Want My Five Dollars
July 2, 2004
I went to the coffee shop near my old apartment this afternoon, but was suddenly overcome with a craving for a hamburger. Although the coffee shop offers sandwiches, there’s no grill. So before anyone had a chance to bring me a menu, I skipped out and went to the greasy spoon across the street.
I sat at the counter of the long, narrow diner and ordered from a cute waitress with long, straight hair dyed deep red. More like maroon, actually. There was only one other guy in the place. He was sitting a few stools down from me and doing his best to flirt with the girl. She seemed to know him — a regular customer, no doubt — and even though I couldn't hear everything they said to each other, I did hear him tell her she was breaking his heart.
She stepped out from behind the counter and took a stool next to him. But just then, an old guy came in.
"You watchin' da game?" the old guy blurted out.
"Huh?”
“Youse got da game on?"
"Yeah, look," the waitress said, pointing to the television on the wall behind me, "it's the game." — The Ricky Lake Show was on. — "Can't you see?"
"Lemme get an Iced Tea ta go," he said. "An' hurry."
The waitress got up slowly and walked behind the counter.
"C'mon," he said, giving her a hard time for the hell of it.
"I want my five dollahs," she said to him.
"You'll get your money when you get it. And it'll be a present — not because you deserve it."
She rang him up, and he headed out the door.
"Wait," she called out. "You wanna bet again? You wanna bet on this series?"
"Nah, I'm not feeling good."
Apparently, the five bucks he owed her was from a bet on a baseball game. As she watched the guy leave, the waitress spotted a car outside. It was stopped at a red light and white smoke was pouring from its hood. "Oh shit," she said. "Look at dat car out deah. It's all smokin' an' shit." We all strained to look. She laughed. "That driver don't even care. He's all like, whatevah ."
The guy who had been trying to flirt said, "He needs water in his radiator."
"I don't know nuthin' 'bout cars," she replied. "But I know dat shit don't look good."
Her cell phone rang and she answered.
I couldn't hear what she was saying, but the other guy, who was closer, was listening intently. When she hung up, he said, "Okay, you got company coming in, I'm gonna take off."
"What're you talkin' 'bout company ?"
"I just heard you. Someone's coming in to see you. I don't know who."
"I don't know who either. I just met him last night. I was out wit' Christine. He was tryin' to talk to me."
"Well, whatever. You got company. I'm going."
And even though I was curious to see who was "trying to talk to her," I had already finished my meal and didn’t feel like getting wired on coffee, so I left, too.
