The Mood

He felt it, they all did.

“You think maybe we can get some music?” he asked the hostess.

“Sorry. No.”

“It’s sorta dead in here. I mean, are there any other customers?”

“Not this evening.”

She was wearing a wooly black skirt and a to large white blouse. Her hair was tussled and she seemed to need glasses, though she wasn’t wearing any.

“Then can we maybe see a menu?”


“A drink menu maybe? Something to get us started.”

“Your waitress will be right over.”

She shuffled away, leaving behind a pile of used napkins that’d been tucked in her apron.

“We aughta go.”

“Angel said this place was the best. She said ‘it’ll change your world view’.

“That might not be a good thing.”

“I’m not thinking I wanna eat anything prepared here.”

Doug flicked the napkins onto the floor with the handle end of his butter knife.

“The lamb is supposed to be out of this world.”

“I’m pretty sure I just saw a cricket.”

“Cricket is probably best case scenario.”

“Alright, we’ll go.”

The waitress arrived as they we standing. She looked at them and their jackets and their purses as if they’d all stabbed her in the heart. Each one of them.

“Are you leaving?” she asked.

“We’re just running a little late. We’re seeing a movie.”


The violence of the waitress reply set them all back. She’d not just screamed the word at them… she’d thrown it, like a cannon ball from her chest.

“You’re not seeing a movie. You’re liars. All of you. Filthy, stinking, s**theads.”

“OK, well I’m not usually the Yelp guy, but I’m gonna write this one up.”

“Get the hell out! Get out, liars.”

The waitress stomped her feet. Then pulled off her weird seashell braclet and flung it at Sara.


“What the hell lady?”

“Alright, we’re going. Yall are crazy.”

They left, turning back they saw the hostess standing outside the restaurant… flipping them off.

“What was Angel smoking when she suggested this place?”

“That was insane.”

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