Open Writing

Although I don’t think I will ever forget any of the characters that were on the payroll at the Diner when I first started working there, Danny is still my most memorable.

Mine and Danny’s path did not cross at first. I was hired as a breakfast server. My shifts were from 7am to 1pm. Danny, however, was one of only two night servers. She would come in between 2-4pm and close the restaurant, which was only open for dinner three days a week. The rest of the week it closed at 2:00pm, mainly because the majority of their business was breakfast and lunch – except for on the weekends when they offered their ALL YOU CAN EAT FISH FRIES.

One day, after I had been employed at the Diner for a couple of months, my husband and I decided – for the first time – to go up and eat. It was them that I first had the opportunity to make her acquaintance.

When we entered the restaurant it seemed odd to me. I had never been there at nighttime. It seemed dark and mysterious. The lights in the dining room were dimmed, Christmas lights, I had never even noticed, shone along the molding on the walls, and the candles on the tables were actually lit. There were a few customers scattered a bout, all with unfamiliar faces. I did recognize two diners though. The owners were there, seated in their usual booth, yet I still did not see a waitress anywhere.

I grabbed a couple of menus and two silverware roll-ups and led my husband toward a booth adjacent to my bosses’. I introduced them, and we immediately struck up a conversation. As usual, my husband, Joe, positioned himself in the booth so that he had a clear view of everything – leaving me with my back to it all. I didn’t care. I had a clear view of my new boss lady, so we just started up a little chit chat of our own, while Joe scanned the menu to see what he was going to eat. I didn’t need to look at a menu though, because I knew what I was ordering. I had known since the early morning what I was planning to have for supper. Why? Because I had been smelling it cook all day long. It was the Prime Rib Roast they ran on SPECIAL every Friday night. The one I had been dreaming about eating for weeks now. It is one of my favorites steaks and what could be better than enjoying it at half price. Joe on the other hand was much more indecisive. He couldn’t decide between the A.U.C.E Catfish or the homemade meatloaf with black-eyed peas. (Neither of which I cooked at home.)

Suddenly, my husband’s eyes jumped from the down position of reading his menu to the up and wide-opened. Something had definitely gotten his attention and I could only imagine it was female. Oh, yeah. I was right. As I almost cracked my neck trying to turn around quick enough to see what the BIG attraction was, a young lady dressed in all black came around the corner and approached us. I know my facial expression had to have been like…WOW! But, when I got my first glimpse of our waitress, my co-worker, Danny, my eyes too went wide as my bottom jaw dropped.

I am not saying that she wasn’t an attractive woman, because she was. It’s just that I didn’t expect to be waited on by Elvira. Standing in front of me, dressed in all black, was a young lady with long purple hair, leather pants, a spiked-leather choker around her neck and several piercing in her face. Not to mention, the 10-inch combat boots she wore on her feet. Honest! She was like a Gothic Princess among the local rednecks. A mix between someone from the Addams Family and The Monsters, but in a pretty way. Joe seemed more amazed then I was, but I wasn’t really sure if it was because he was shocked or intrigued. Either way, we were merely there to eat, not critique her appearance.

“Hey guys. Can I get you something to drink? Get you started?” she asked as the awkward moment of silence was finally broken.

“Danny,” the Mrs. said. “This is our new day girl and her husband.”

Still a bit stunned, I said, “Hey.”

Then Joe chimed in, “Can you give us a couple more minutes, Sweetie.”

I guess my husband could tell I needed a few more minutes. My silence was enough to alarm him. He could tell I was having trouble registering the whole Gothic-waitress thing. Plus, sending her away gave him a chance to check her out from the back view.

“Dude,” I whispered.

My bosses started cracking up.

“Yeah, she”s definitely an attention getter,” the Mrs. said. “But believe it or not, our customers LOVE her. She’s been with us a while now and even though we never know what color her hair might be on any given day, and she scares us all to death with those stupid shoes, she really is a good girl.”

“I’ve warned her, too” the Mr. added. “When she does break her little neck, she’s gonna pay for it, because Workmen’s Comp would laugh both of our butts right out of their office if they ever saw her working in this get-up!”

“Yeah. Yeah. I hear you boss man,” she said as she rounded the corner and walked back toward our table. “I’m not gonna fall, old man. I know how to walk, and these are my WORK SHOES! So please let it go all ready,” she laughed.

And with that, she turned away from him and faced us. “So, what’cha gonna have?” she said with a smile.