Your Table Is Ready
We both knew going into the restaurant at seven on a Friday night was asking for a long wait, but it was the only time she was free, so we went with it. It wasn't a particularly upscale place, and it wasn't a particularly downscale place either, but it was the type of place full of people on a Friday night. After a twenty minute wait in a cramp waiting room surrounded by strangers—which always makes me a little uneasy—our table was ready. A plucky hostess came to seat us. Our table was one of the two that bordered the large, circular table for groups that sat in the corner of the dining area. I glanced at the table as I waited for my dining partner to sit down. There was five people there, looking at menus with two more menus on the table, they were waiting for people. I sat at the table, and we both opened up our menus and began to look over what we might want to digest. As this was going on, we heard the voice of a woman, it was shrill, not loud, but audible. “...