Nothing out of the usual happened at work today.
Except this one guy (who was actually kind of hot) randomly kissed me. I guess that was kind of out of the usual.
I was on my shift at Garden Light- you know, that Chinese place downtown? Anyway, I was on my shift when he walked in. Soft, shiny brown hair, grayish mysterious eyes, you know the type. Miranda (my friend) happily seated him, then came back to the kitchen where I was.
She grabbed my shoulders. "Naomi. Do you see that total hottie over at table three?"
I nodded. "I'm serving that table, I think." It was the only table I was serving, actually, because tonight nobody seemed to be in the mood for Chinese food.
Miranda shrieked. Loudly. "Do you have any idea how lucky you are?! Oh my-"
I rolled my eyes. "We need to stop chatting now. He's kind of waiting for his waitress to get there."
"Oh." She nodded and I hurried over to the table. Well, hurried as fast as a waitress can hurry in platform sandals.
I should probably tell you about the place now, because it's kind of important to the story and good for people who need to visualize everything. (Personally I've never known anyone like that, but whatever.) The tables are normal-looking, but they have these really cool oriental painting-design things on them. There are red and gold booths, and the menus are really nice, too. So, seeing as this place is nice, we have to wear uniforms that cost half a month's wages. They're Chinese-style dresses (which are impossible to walk in) and come in two colors; red and gold. Neither of which look very good on me. Fun, right?
Anyway, I was running (or attempting to do so) in very tall shoes, because I was late. And I was not prepared for the giant puddle of soda that Miranda had neglected to mop up. As it turned out, this puddle was right in the middle of my path to table three.
I slipped on the puddle of soda. Then, as if that weren't enough, the momentum carried me onward. So I was practically flying through the air toward the table, and then I landed really hard on my butt, right next to the guy.
I got up, very embarrassed, and managed to stammer out something along the lines of 'hi'.
The guy smiled. I'm pretty sure he was trying not to laugh. "Hi."
I stood there for a second, unsure of what to do. "I'm the waitress. So, um... What do you want to drink?"
I grabbed a glass. "Pepsi okay?"
I handed him a menu and walked to the kitchen to fill up the glass. Thank goodness Miranda had gone up to the front again. I love her, but she talks way too much. And she'd have a lot to say about how I'd totally messed this up, or something like that. I'd worry about that later.
I finished filling the glass and walked back out. Carefully sidestepping the puddle this time, I reached the table without much incident.
The guy grinned as I set the glass down. "What, no dramatic entrance this time?"
"Very funny." I would have glared, but I practically live off of tips, and people generally leave more money for people who don't give death glares. "Have you picked out what you'd like to eat?"
He nodded. "Food would be nice."
I sighed. "Any kind of food in particular?"
"Is the shrimp and rice good?" he asked.
Cue eye roll. "I can't really say it's bad, can I?"
"... I'll just have some sweet and sour chicken with rice."
I nodded my approval and jotted down the order. "I'll give you your food when it's ready, okay?"
The cook took forever to get the order ready, and I spent my time people-watching. It's a great way to pass time when business is slow, as long as they don't catch you staring at them. Then it's kind of awkward, and when that happens I'll usually turn to watch the cook work or go chat with Miranda.
Finally the order was ready, and I took it to the table.
"Here's your food."
"Thanks." He grabbed some chopsticks and started to eat.
I turned to leave.
"Hey, it doesn't look like you have any other tables to wait on..." He paused for a second. "So, um... Do you want to sit for a while?"
I sat down. "Sure!"
It would take too long to tell you all of the things we talked about. Apparently there are people in the world who talk more than Miranda does. We chatted about everything from the food to pets we'd had to World War II. (Well, he actually did most of the chatting. I've always been more of the listening type.)
Eventually another group came in, and I had to wait on their table.
The hot guy waved me over. "Hey, can I get my check?"
I nodded and retrieved it for him.
I also got a fortune cookie, which I handed to him. "Fortune cookie. Want one?"
He nodded and broke it open. Then he read the message and smiled. (His smile, in case you were wondering, was super-cute! Oh, great, I sound like Miranda...) I grabbed the tray he'd put the Visa on and gave it to Miranda to check. Or whatever she does with the trays and cards.
She handed it back to me. "Here you go. He's all set!"
"Thanks." I headed back to the table.
He thanked me for the good service and chat. He got up to leave.
And then he kissed me. This was a straight-on-the lips kind, too. Just for a second. And then he tucked a piece of paper into my hand and walked out the door.
After recovering from the shock (Hello, the hottest guy on earth just kissed me on the lips! You'd be shocked, too.), I looked down at the paper. It had his name and number, and a note that said to call him sometime.
Then I turned it over. It was the fortune from the fortune cookie I'd given him.
Do something spontaneous.
I smiled and tucked the paper away for later. This was one thing I wouldn't tell Miranda about.