Hometown Monsters | Open
clemnewmanâ:
ITâS A BIT ENLIGHTENING to see just how exactly the other half worked. It isnât that Clem is entirely unused to the idea of overworking, but at least his brand of workaholism is self-inflicted. This just seems like torture to sit through, especially when itâs raining cats and dogs outside and the diner is practically deserted save for himself and that one man who vaguely looks like either a vagrant of a criminal. (Flip a coin, Clem guesses. Theyâre all just about the same to him.) He grimaces at her remark, but it quickly turns into a fond and appreciative smile at the turn of her kind words. âWell, the good peopleââand here, the echo of her words turn almost sardonic in his voiceââappreciates your service. How ever can this town survive without a day of good oleâ American cheeseburgers and milkshake?âÂ
A man whom he can only assume is her superior walks by and he can only watch as the strange, intricate ritual of restaurant management and bureaucracy plays itself out in front of him. When he leaves, Clem sends Blake a particular look, one thatâs kind of just exasperatedânot for himself, but for her. âKind of a bastard, isnât he?â he says, even though he knows nothing about her boss aside from the fact that heâs, well, her boss. Briefly, he wonders if this how the junior partners, associates, and interns talk about him when heâs not in the office. (Which, heâs almost never out of his office, so at least those instances are few and far between, heâd wager.)Â
âIt didnât,â he says, his voice absolutely dripping in misery, even though it was his own choice that led him to suffer this abominable rain. âPiping hot coffee sounds good,â he says. âBlack, as always.â Like my soul, he doesnât say, because even thatâs too clichĂ© for him. He tries, instead, to think about what he might order. âLetâs see⊠I want a burger, please,â he says almost absent-mindedly. âPlus some fries, with a generous serving of ketchup.â He also kind of wants a milkshake, but heâs decided heâs keeping kosher today, so thatâs out of the window. (Itâs a rare moment: heâs not so often halachically inclined.) âAnd maybe even your company, if your boss is willing enough to show some kindness every once in a while.â He punctuates this remark with a smile, patting the booth couch in invitation.
Blake cracks up at the blunt statement, a snort even escaped, she hastily covers the laughter with her hand. Blakeâs boss wouldnât care what a customer really called them as long as they bought something, but her taking any sort of pleasure at him being called out was unacceptable. Luckily he seemed to be out of earshot, most likely the tiny tv was turned on to whatever sporting event was going on somewhere else in the world that wasnât facing a heavy downpour. Regarding him with a bit surprise, Blake was impressed he could just speak his mind, as if the consequences mattered so little. Her entire life was cleaning up after consequences, due to that she was more mindful of everything she did. She did appreciate the sense of camaraderie it gave her, although she had a feeling that from his footwear, and from how he dressed it was doubtful to her the man ever waited tables to survive.
âCanât have anything like cream or sugar ruining the bitter taste.â Blake agreed, writing down his order. âComing right up, and Iâll be right back, unless we get a rush our other patron looks like heâs doing pretty well.â She whirled around to get the best Viollâs Cove market offered, the pot seemed hot, she could the the one other customer was taking slow sips in between reading the paper. Coffee normally was a constant seller, you couldnât mess up on it that bad, and it gave you a good dose of caffeine to get through the day. Blake poured the dark liquid into a clean cup, inspecting it for lipstick marks to make sure the dishwashers had done a good job, as sheâd had some embarrassing complaints when she didnât notice the faint traces whoever had it before them, she hated looking incompetent. The paper was ripped off her notepad and stuck onto the counter between the kitchen and eating area, Blake rang the bell to get the cooks attention, a hand reached out and slipped the note off the metal divider, reading it over and getting to work.Â
In a smooth motion she plucked the cup up, and placed it in front of Clem. âOne black coffee, and one tired girl, for the gentleman at table five.â She announced, finding herself a seat by him.Â
