Restless in the Grave
“It was a Tuesday night and the crowd amounted to the same guy asleep on the same stool at the bar and two younger men playing cribbage in a booth, who stopped pegging long enough to examine Kate with interest. She put her jacket in Bill’s office, Mutt took up station at the end of the bar, and Bill indoctrinated her into the mysteries of waitressing. “All people want is the right drink fast. Try to keep the orders straight and you’ll be fine.” Bill looked her over. “You’ll probably get your sha...re of come-ons from the customers. Don’t take any crap. If someone persists in giving it—”“If I can’t take care of it, and I can,” Kate said, “don’t forget I brought my own personal bouncer.” They both looked at Mutt.Bill looked back at Kate, a latent twinkle in her blue eyes. “You’ll do,” she said.There were never more than twenty-five customers at one time that evening, but Kate had never worked so hard in her life. She was constantly in motion physically and constantly on the alert mentally to the wave of a hand, a call for a round, keeping straight who ordered what at what table or booth, adding up a tab, figuring out change.MoreLess
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