Francine's pixie haircut, blonde again, allows the steam to come out straight from her ears. She slams a couple of dirty plates on the metal kitchen counter and glares through the window at the dining room. "Easy," Manuel says, wiping his hands on his apron, "Michael will scream if we break any more dishes tonight."
He approaches Francine, "What's the matter? Are you still upset over breaking up with your boyfriend?"
Francine turns to face him, "How'd you know about that?"
"Good news travels fast," Manuel says with a grin.
He holds up a pack of Iron Lungs cigarettes, "Smoke break?"
Francine smiles, takes a cigarette from the pack, whips out her lighter from her pocket, puts the cigarette in her mouth, and lights it before they even exit the kitchen into the back alley. She takes a long drag as she leans against the wall.
"So?" Manuel says, as Francine lights his cigarette.
"So what?"
"Why so glum, chum? You know I can cheer you up, right?" Manuel raises his eyebrows twice rapidly.
"Ha!" Francine says, "No, it's a customer. I have a whistler. I hate them. I may be a bitch, but I'm not a fucking dog. Don't whistle at me to get my attention. I tried ignoring him, but Michael grabbed my arm and sent me over to his table."
"Which one is it?"
"The couple where the gal's all stylish and the guy's a dork."
"Oh, yeah, I saw them when they came in. I didn't pay much attention to the dude, but that chick sure can throw back the wine, huh? You should get a fat tip if she keeps that up."
"Ha! Maybe they'll leave a dog treat too."
They finish their cigarettes as Michael yells at them to come back to work.
Twenty minutes later, Francine bursts through the kitchen doors and stomps up to Manuel, who is frying up some popcorn in duck fat for an appetizer. She holds up a piece of white paper in front of Manuel's eyes. It reads:
"Dear Server,
We found your service left something to be desired, so we wanted to leave you desiring something: A tip. However, since we are kind souls, we will leave you a tip anyway: Find a better job. Or, convince your boss to actually adequately compensate you for your labor instead of leaving it up to the vagaries of the customer. Tipping is an antiquated practice that should be discarded. Good customer service, alas, should not, yet you chose to do so anyway. So enjoy your tipped employee hourly minimum wage, whatever pittance amount that's set at now. You get nothing from us, which is what we got from you. It would have been easier for us just to place our order and get our food directly from the kitchen than it was to sit around and wait for you to come by whenever you felt like it, which apparently wasn't often.
Sincerely,
The Anti-Tipping Squad"
"Damn! that sucks, dude!" Manuel says, then can't think of anything else to say except "You want some duck fat popcorn?"
Francine looks at him and then stomps out the back door. Manuel follows her, "You need another smoke break already?"
He steps out the door and sees Francine sprinting down the alley towards a couple on the main street strolling by.
Manuel goes back inside and closes the door. He returns to his snapping grease and popping corn. "Ay, bendito," he whistles, deciding to pretend he knows nothing about this when Michael asks.
Blog Love Omega Glee is a novel by Wred Fright about two bloggers who fall in love while the world falls apart, which is being serialized on his blog. To start reading from the beginning or read another installment, please visit Blog Love Omega Glee Central on WredFright.Com. If you like what you've read, or you've read all of Blog Love Omega Glee and want more Fright, then please read his first novel, which is available in print and as an ebook.
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