Chapter 1

Drinking from an Empty Glass

Chaz Hemsworth

Chapter 1.

“The glass is f****n’ empty George!”   

I mumbled back, the sound distorted by the glass at my lips, “No, there’s still a little bit more,” to Avery.  I lifted up the glass as high as I could.  A single drop of water rolled down the side of the glass.  I anticipated it; I awaited the relief.  The drop went into my throat, and in some small way tried to quench my thirst.  It didn’t do much, but the server wouldn’t be around for at least another 5 minutes.  The restaurant around us was nearly full.  It was dimly lit. 

“George, that was really a dumb move,” Avery said.

                “What, that drop of water?” I asked him. 

                “No, quitting your job.  I mean, why?” he said. 

                “I didn’t wanna push papers around all day for some multibillion dollar corporation whose profits I probably won’t see any respectable share of,” I replied. “I wanted be somebody, make a name for myself.” 

                Avery leaned over the table, nearly to my ear.  His black shirt contrasted with the white part of the checkerboard table. 

“George, that’s like Eat, Pray, Love bullshit right there!  You can’t leave everything and just go on some hippie style journey of ‘spiritual enlightenment for today’s modern age’,” Avery jabbed at me. 

I quickly replied, “That’s what they tell everyone.” 

Avery began to speak, saying “I mean, that’s your…”

“Food’s here,” I interrupted.  The server walked up to our table, with our burgers. 

                “Double cheeseburger, no pickles,” he said.  I raised my hand and said a thank you.  He handed the other plate to Avery.  Avery talked, but I was absorbed in my food.  He did finally shut up when I was about halfway done with my food.  The restaurant played some music from the 50's.  I didn't like it.  It was music come and gone in my opinion.  The restaurant was styled like a diner from the “good old days” and played the matching music.  I personally hated it, but Avery had asked me to come along, so I had.  I regretted that decision as soon as he started talking. 

The waiter didn’t notice that my glass was empty and as a result of eating French fries I was thirsty. I moaned to myself about the injustice of the service industry, how it was hurting people like me, who just wanted drinks.  A waiter walked by.  I called out, “Can I get a water please?!”  There wasn’t a response.   Avery started talking again. 

“Just wait for our guy to get back,” he said.

“Easy for you to say,” I said, “since you’re not dying of thirst like an African child.”  Avery looked at me with a stunned gaze. 

“George, why would you…, what even was…, did you really just…, oh my goodness,” he stammered. I began to laugh quietly to myself.  I liked the joke.  I thought it was hysterical. Obviously it hurt Avery’s little feelings, as he was in silence.    I didn’t really care about Avery, or this diner, or the surprisingly good double cheeseburger.  That is until I tasted pickles.  I have always hated the taste of pickles.  I spat out the bite. “Avery, I clearly said no pickles!” I said.

“Yep,” he said.

“The server even said no pickles,” I said in a more sympathetic voice. 

“Well what I are you going to do?” he asked. I gestured to watch.  I left the booth and walked up to the counter.  Clearly this was the man behind the counter’s fault I resolved to myself. 

“Excuse me,” I started in a soft tone, but escalating in intensity, “I had asked for a double, no pickle.  However, there were pickles in my burger.”

The man at the counter stared at me like I was an idiot.  The look gave me the opposite sense of who had better mental facilities.  “Well I’m very sorry about that, would you like another?” he asked.

“No, not particularly,” I told him.  “Just give me my meal free.  I won’t be coming back,” I ordered.  “And could you get me a glass of water?” I added as an afterthought.  He nodded and said some ‘Yes sir’s.  I walked back to my table.  Avery was still there, still slowly picking away at French fries around the remains of his burger.  His burger was made correctly.  I felt some anger towards him.  Why did he get his burgers made right every time?  He never asked for the pickles to be removed.  In fact, he was now eating the pickles off of my burger.  He was like some corporation, feeding off of the misfortunes everyone had suffered.  Literally feeding off of me in this case, with those pickles.  As much as I didn’t want them they were mine.  “Look, Avery,” I said, attempting to reach the point, “I’m not a drone.  I’m a person, so why should I have to behave like a drone?”

“Because you also need to eat and have a house.  Ever heard of a starving cube worker?” Avery countered.

“I won’t starve if I keep getting pickles on my goddamn food after CLEARLY SPECIFYING NO PICKLES!” The diners all looked at me with a sense of shock.  The manager walked up to our table. 

“Sir, I’m going to have to ask you to leave,” he said in that smarmy voice that people in power get when they talk down to you.  I stood up.            

“No, I’m staying right here,” I challenged.  “I dare you”.  The diners began to have nervous conversations.  “I’m not leaving, not until I get that glass of water.”  Like some magic spell I was now remarkably thirsty.  I grabbed my glass and raised it as high as I could.

“George, the glass is empty!  We just went through this!” Avery yelled to me.  “Just sit back down, and wait for the check, then leave like any decent person would.” I wasn’t scared of Avery; he had no power over me.  I swung the empty glass straight for the manager’s head. It shattered in a crystal rain over the manager.  He got up.  Another employee grabbed the phone. I felt Avery’s thick hands grab my shoulders. 

                “Why don’t we leave now George?” he asked in the same smarmy voice as before.  As we walked out, I grabbed a glass of water off of a table.  The water in the glass swirled with every step and/or stumble.  I raised it up to my face, but with one shove Avery caused me to fall over and drop the glass.  It shattered with a musical ringing; one that seemed to represent both hope and defeat at once.  

Reviews

[Average person]

oh geez im so sorry ! i dunno how long ago you sent this to me but I've been out of country and all that. Anyways it was quite interesting. At first I was kinda confused as to the point behind some of it but by the end it all came together. quite nice my friend :) again I am so sorry if it took me a long time to read and comment on this :c