Waiting

This is actually a story I wrote for someone I worked with at an Italian restaurant. Mainly, it is a slice of life through the mind of a server.

Cough, 4:58 
Employee
Kenn 
Password   
**** 
Log in as Kenn? 
Yes 

  “Hey, Kenn. You've got three at table 11.”   
My shift begins. 
  “Thanks.” 

  “Hello there. How are we doing tonight?”
  “Pretty good, thank you,” the husband quickly states. “Do you think she'd eat calamari?” he asks with an air to his wife. “Maybe we could get it fried,” she responds. 
  “Good to hear. My name is Kenn and I will be taking care of you tonight. Is there anything I can get you to drink? Any wine, or cocktails?”
  “I think we're fine with water, but would you give us a minute and -"
  “Wermernafe!” a small voice projects both syllables and bread crumbs from beside her mom and the spouses quickly exchange a hoarsely whispered debate. 
  “She'll be okay with water,” he says as I begin a game of tic-tac-toe on my pad. 
  “Tod, she can have juice,” and the Little Loaf continues to munch on a piece of bread in one hand while the other holds another. 
  “It's got too much sugar." 
  "She'll be fine."
  
  But right when the Os are about to make their historic comeback the wife interrupts, “She'll have a lemonade with a lid.”  
 “Sure thing. I'll be right back with her lemonade.”
 “With a lid,” she reminds.
 “With a lid,” I reply.   

  “Kenn, I sat five at 20,” the hostess says to me on my way to pour the Little Loaf's lemonade " with a lid. I drop off the drink and the man demands, “A few more minutes,” and turns to his Loaf, who is bouncing in her seat merrily nibbling at her bread, he sighs, “and more bread,” as she echoes him through her stuffed cheeks, “Mo' bref!” I smile and nod, and I turn around to greet the five grey men idling at 20 between their fifties and sixties. 


  “Hello there. How are we doing tonight?” 
  “... and the oldest has been down in Atlanta the past five months, got a promotion, with, uh, what's it called? Eh, f**k it. It doesn't matter.”
  “Oh, good for him. Always knew he was a smart kid.”


  “Good to hear. My name is Kenn and I will be taking care of you tonight. Is there anything I can get you to drink? Any wine, or cocktails?” 
  “Yeah, gimme a " you got Maker's?”
  “Yes, we do, sir.”
  “Yeah, gimme a Maker's Manhattan " you know how to make a Manhattan?”
  “Yes, and so does our bartender.”
  “Well, make sure he makes it on the rocks, with sweet vermouth, and a couple drops a bitters.”
  “And a cherry,” I remind.
  “And a cherry.” he replies, and then resumes, “The youngest, though...” 

  “Uh, let's see,” the adjacent grey gentleman ponders his drink aloud before setting down his menu, “What beers you got?”
  “Well, for bottles, we have: Miller Lite, Bud Light, Budweiser, Coors Light, Corona...” and the list is mechanically recited as my eyes look over to 11, meeting the husband's stare, “and Peroni.”
  “I'll just take a Miller.” 

  “Okay, a Miller Lite. And what may I get for you, sir?”
  “Eh, whatever your house red is.”
  “Alright, would you like Cabernet, Merl -”
  “Cab's fine.”
  

  “Okay, Cabernet. And wha -” 
  “Kettle One martini. Dry. Up. Three bleu cheese olives. And a twist.”


  “Okay, a Kettle-” 
  “Yeah, and gimme a Coke " light ice,” the last man interrupts.
  “Is Pepsi fine?”
  “Sure.” 

  Little Loaf needs bread, I remind myself, keying in FiveGuys' drinks, Maker's, Miller, Cab, Kettle - dry, Pepsi, and send. I move over to pour the Pepsi, remembering light ice only after I had already poured it - Dump.Ice.Pour.Straw.Tray. - and I leave it by the bar window to wait for the others as I pinch a loaf for Little Loaf. 

  “Here's some more bread for you, little darling.”
  “Thank you!” she beams. 
  “I think we're ready,” the husband says.
  “Great. What may I get for you?”
  “We'll start off with an order of Piatto Fritto and, for dinner, we'll share a fourteen inch cheese pizza.”
   Ugh, 'Hello five-dollar-tip, my old friend.' 
  “Sounds great. I'll be right back with your appetizer,” I say. 

  I punch the order into the computer and I grab FiveGuys' drinks. 

  “Hey, Kenn. Can you take 4? There's three.”
  “Okay, yeah.” and I proceed to FiveGuys.


  I'll go to 4 after I drop off the drinks, take their drink order, then the Piatto should be - “Here is your Maker's, your Miller...,” I say as I hand the drinks down in turn. 

  “Would you five guys like to start out with any appetizers? Any cala -” 
  “Nah, gimme the Chicken Parm and a salad with Thousand.”
  “I'm sorry, we don't have Thousand Island.” Ding! a bell rings, My Piatto's up. 
  “Fine, gimme French.” The other FourGuys list off their orders quickly enough. I grab their menus and OneGuy says, “Another Miller while you're at it.” 

  I need to pick up the pace. 

  Ring in Miller, Piatto for Little Loaf, beer for FiveGuys, punch in order, greet 4, “Hello there. How are we doing tonight?” nod and smile, “Good to hear. My name is Kenn and I will be taking care of you tonight. Is there anything I can get you to drink?” S**t, did I ring in the Caesar salad? “Any wine, or cocktails?” 
  Another Maker's for FiveGuys, the Loafs are looking around, “Mo' wemonade, pweeease,” I need to start FiveGuys' salads, ring in 4's fried cal., Manhattan, prepare their drinks, Little Loaf's lemonade, grab the Maker's, drop the drinks, more bread for 20, I'll grab it with their soups and salads. S**t. The Caesar salad, check the order, Thank God, four salads, two Italian, one French, the Caesar, Where is it? a minestrone, deliver 20's bread, soup, and salads, Ding! 4's fried calamari, Little Loaf's pizza is up. I'll get it after I give 4 their app., 20 needs another Pepsi, “Here's your Calamari, folks,” Oh, they're ready. Of course they wanna order right now. “Awesome, what may I get for you?” Little Loaf needs her cheese, S**t, fire FiveGuys' dinner, pour a Pepsi, grab the pizza, drop his drink, check the Loafs, ring in 4, and I have time for a breather.  


  What time is it? 5:42, my phone relays but also states, Lauren Marie has sent you a friend request.


  And through the cacophony of clanging steel, the kitchen's shouts, and the patrons' murmurs, music can be faintly heard and I am reminded that there is, indeed, an outside. And out there I can see that there are trees, and that they're green, and I can see their individual leaves rustling, dancing with the breeze, whose limbs' swaying begs me closer to the window, where I see that the sky is clear and that it is colored blue. 

  “Hey, Kenn.”
  “Hey, what's up, Rachel?”
  “Can you take two at 3?”
  “Fo'sh.” 

  “Why, hello, hello there, folks! How are we doing today?”
  “Doing good. How are you?”
  “I'm great! Couldn't be happier!”

Author's Note

Not particularly sure why I chose this to be the first piece I submitted here but I think it is fun enough. I know I can have a tough time with punctuation because I overthink it to the point where I create problems but, I don't know, let me know what you think in any regards that might coalesce. I am always looking to improve any and all facets of my craft. And the best way to do that is to receive differing opinions on a specific piece regardless if I agree or adopt the advice for that particular work. At least I would have more perceptions or ideas for my others.

Oh, and I don't really have a set title for this. I just slapped "Waiting" on it. Kind of fits but it's definitely not what I want. So, any ideas on that front are especially welcome.