Girl Crush(38)

I’d heard Ronnie and Trish mention this kind of attitude, but I’d never witnessed it myself. I couldn’t believe this kind of prejudice still existed, but here it was, right in front of me. I chose to ignore it and simply smiled. It gave me an excuse to release myself from the death grip Heather had on me and put our name on the waitlist for a table.

Just as I turned around to take the buzzer from the girl manning the hostess stand, I could have sworn I saw Heather put a handful of mints into her pocketbook. I don’t mean like two or three for later…she cleaned the dish out leaving two—two—remaining in the bowl. Maybe she had serious halitosis and just wanted to be prepared—either way, it was odd.

It didn’t take long to be seated. And when the waitress arrived for our drink order, Heather asked for an additional set of silverware. There had been two on the table when we sat down—I know there had, but maybe my mind was playing tricks on me. Miss Bubbly Personality flipped the switch when the waitress brought our drinks. With that sickeningly sweet smile, she proceeded to bitch about the ratio of rum to juice, the color of her umbrella, and the fact there was only one cherry in her glass versus the three she’d requested.

“Heather, it’s not a big deal. I’m sure she can get you another drink.” I pleaded with my eyes bouncing back and forth between my date and the woman standing at the edge of our table.

Heather put her hand on top of mine. “Honey, it is a big deal. People need to do their jobs well or find new professions.”

“Heather…” I hissed her name under my breath, mortified by her treatment of the waitress.

“I’ll get another one for you, ma’am. I’m sorry.” She didn’t wait for a response as she hightailed it as far away as she could get.

Great. Now the girl’s going to spit in our food…or worse.

“So, Giselle. What looks good to you?”

I was dumbfounded by her ability to shift gears so quickly, back to Little Miss Sunshine. Her attitude toward the help vastly different than that toward me. I’d never witnessed anything so bizarre.

“Umm…” I struggled to complete a sentence and stared at my menu, hoping to find an answer hidden within the pages. “The chicken looks good.”

“Oh, come on. Live a little. How about surf and turf?”

I glanced at the surf and turf, and my eyes bugged at the price. There was no way I was ordering anything that was fifty-one dollars, regardless of who paid the bill.

When the waitress returned, Heather sipped her cocktail and seemed satisfied. The poor server’s shoulders visibly relaxed at her approval. Heather proceeded to order a very expensive bottle of wine to go with two appetizers, and her surf and turf. When the waitress turned to me, I opted for a salad to accompany the mounds of food Heather had ordered.

“Giselle, that’s not enough, sweetheart. You need more food.” She looked up at the waitress and ordered the chicken in addition to the salad. And promptly dismissed the girl.

“I won’t eat that much, Heather. The appetizers and the salad would have been plenty.”

“Oh, did you want an appetizer? Let me get her back so you can order one, too.”

“No. No. It’s fine. There’s plenty of food coming.” Miffed, I had no idea where she planned to pack away all that she had ordered in her tiny little frame.

But the answer to that question came with the appetizers. “Can I get two to-go boxes?”

“You haven’t eaten a bite. What’s wrong?” My eyes went from Heather to the plate and back to Heather.

“Oh, nothing. You didn’t think I was going to eat all this tonight, did you? This is like three more meals I can take home. That’s why I told you to order more than a salad.”

She had to be shitting me. “Do you not like to cook?” I could appreciate that, but why not just order something to go at the end of the meal? Or I don’t know, buy something at a later time when you weren’t on a date.

Before Heather could respond, the waitress brought the boxes, which Heather promptly put to use. I watched in utter shock as she put every single bite of both appetizers into the Styrofoam containers. “Could you bring us some extra bread, too?” The waitress nodded and took off. She directed her attention back to me. “I’m starving. I hope they bring our entrees soon.”

This girl was certifiably insane. I didn’t have a clue how to respond. There were two plates of food sitting in take-out boxes she could dive right into that were on the table.

The wine arrived just after the doggie bags. I half expected her to tell the server not to uncork it so she could take it home to have with her appetizers, but to my surprise, she handed me a glass and took one for herself to toast. “To us and new adventures.”

Her kind of adventures scared the shit out of me if this was what dinner turned into, but I smiled and clinked my glass. Heather talked about nothing and everything, but I tuned her out completely in favor of savoring the wine. Dinner couldn’t have come soon enough. I hardly stopped to take a breath as I shoveled spinach into my mouth. My date had been nicer to the waitress since the drink episode—that was until she cut into her steak. Of course, it hadn’t been cooked properly, which became the poor employee’s fault. Our waitress was on the verge of tears but managed to make it away from the table before letting one fall.