Writing Prompt Boot Camp, Day 2

The One that Got Away

Ah, Valentine’s Day. Or, as we in the industry refer to it: Amateur Night.

“Here’s a hot tip for you,” Heidi told me as she finished garnishing table 102’s order, “never take a woman out to eat on Valentine’s Day.”

“I’ll try to remember that boss,” I replied. I hefted the tray onto my left shoulder and made my way back to my section of the restaurant.

After I delivered 102’s food, I went to the closest service station to put in their order for another round of drinks. That done, I went back to the kitchen to see if any food needed running.

“Can you run this out to 405?” Heidi asked me as she indicated the fully laden tray closest to her.

“On it,” I said. I grabbed a tray stand by the door as I left the kitchen.

On my way to table 405, I surveyed the dining room and found that it was populated with two different types of people: young couples dressed nicer than usual and older couples who looked much more at home in fancy attire. No middle-aged folks anywhere in evidence. “Probably too tired from dealing with their kids,” one of my fellow servers surmised.

“Here we are, folks! You’ve ordered two of my favorite things on the menu,” I lied to table 405. “Now who had the –”

“Oh my god!”

That voice stopped me cold. I did not look closely at the people sitting at the table before I walked up to them. I knew there was a man and a woman sitting across from each other, but I didn’t register any details. Now I was seeing them both very clearly, but I only focused my attention on the woman.

“Christina?”

“Davey?”

“How are you?” we both said at the same time. We stared at each other in amazement for another few seconds.

“Um, can we have our food now?” the man sitting across from Christina asked in a tone that suggested that this was not how he saw this evening’s events unfolding.

“Of course,” I stammered. I opened the tray stand, set down the tray, and then delivered their meals.

“Did you need anything else, another drink, perhaps?”

“No, I just need you to go away so I can get back to my date with Christina,” the man growled at me. I smiled and nodded and retreated to the kitchen. I never went back to that section of the dining room until I knew they were gone.

After Amateur Night was over, I found myself sitting at my favorite bar just down the street from the restaurant. I was nursing a second Old Fashioned when I felt a hand on my shoulder.

“Thought I might find you here,” Christina said as she sat down next to me. The bartender came over and asked Christina what she’d like to drink.

“She’ll have a Cosmo,” I said, “and put it on my tab, Ken.” Ken nodded and started making the cocktail.

“I should be buying you a drink by way of an apology,” Christina said.

“Don’t worry about it,” I offered. “I was a bit surprised to see you. I can’t imagine what your date thought about us.”

“Well, he wasn’t too happy,” Christina said. “Good thing you weren’t our actual waiter.”

“Good thing,” I repeated.

Ken brought Christina’s Cosmo, and she thanked him with a smile.

“Cheers,” she said with a raised glass.

“Cheers,” I said as we clinked.

We sat in companionable silence for a moment.

“I couldn’t help but notice that you’re alone,” I remarked. “Want to talk about it?”

“Not really,” she answered and then sipped her drink.

“Ok, but would you like a piece of advice?”

“This should be good,” Christina said and took a longer sip.

“You shouldn’t settle.”

“Settle for what?”

“For anyone unworthy of your company,” I said.

Another few moments of silence, these not quite as easy as before.

“Are you still mad at me?” she asked in a very small voice.

“No,” I lied. “I was, but that was a long time ago.”

“So we’re good?”

“We’re good.”

“Ok, good,” she said and finished her drink. “I better get going. I just wanted to apologize for earlier.”

“No worries. It was nice to see you.”

“Take care, Davey,” she said and gave my shoulder a little squeeze. She got up and left the bar. I finished my drink and caught Ken’s eye.

“Another one?” Ken asked.

“I probably shouldn’t, but it isn’t every day that you run into ‘the one that got away’.”

“How long ago did she break your heart, dude?”

“Oh, long enough that it would embarrass me too much to say,” I laughed.

And all at once, I wasn’t mad at her anymore.