Beer, Burgers & Boyfriends

The sun was already hanging low in the sky when I and my group of rambunctious friends made our way to the burger restaurant. I looked at them with admiration and noticed how the sun pleasantly painted the edges of their silhouettes in beautiful warm orange and yellow hues. My skin and muscles were still burning from the exercises that we had been subjected to, but I relaxed when the glowing (no longer punishingly, scorching hot) rays of sunlight massaged my beaten shoulders soothingly for a job well done.

The taste of freedom lay on the tip of my tongue as the heavy feeling of an eventful week washed off my shoulders. Looking over at my teammates, I assumed that they must be feeling the same way. The promise of getting to do whatever they wanted for the next two days brought a new surge of energy to the group, which spilt over to the rest of the restaurant when we burst through the doors of ‘Beer and Burgers.”

It did not take much effort to see that the place had -rather unimaginatively- been themed after a 60’s roadside diner, but it felt too shiny and new, not lived in enough, to be authentic. The long, white, oval bar was surrounded by shiny, chrome- and icecream-coloured, pin-like bar stools which had been secured to the ground with heavy bolts and the thin, tin, logo plates mounted to the wall were not corroded as real vintage plates would be. The only thing in the diner that showed any wear and tear was the cracked, checkered floor, which I recognized as something that had belonged to the previous owner of the building: an old Italian man who had run a traditional pizzeria.

I was overcome by a wave of nostalgia when I remembered the many Friday afternoons I had spent here with my friends when we were younger. We used to play all kinds of pranks on the old owner, which resulted in frequent scoldings where he would also chase us out with a broom. Despite our bad behaviour, he would always let us back in the following Friday. As a kid, I had never questioned why he had not just banned us from his restaurant entirely, but looking back, we were always causing more harm than good. Maybe it was because we brought some liveliness to the pizzeria or maybe it was because he saw something of his younger self in us. Maybe he was just lonely.

As my friends grew older, however, they started valuing the diversity of their food and the attractiveness of the employees over playing pranks, nostalgia and pizza. I could not blame them for it and when they moved on, I moved on with them. I still regret never going back so I could talk to the pizzeria owner and eat one of his pizzas one last time, but time stops for no one and it is no use getting hung up on something you cannot change.

We claimed one of the large, round tables that looked suspiciously like a bigger version of the pin-like barstools and made ourselves comfortable on the striped, foam-covered seats. Although the interior design of the place was mediocre at best, the food on other customers’ tables looked promising. Unsurprisingly, it was not the food that grabbed the attention of my friends when they finally spotted some of the waitresses.

The retro vibe that the dinner was trying to pull off had also been implemented in the work uniforms. The waitresses, most of whom were about our age, were wearing white collared, long-sleeved, mint-coloured blouses with knee-long skirts in the same colour, which were partly covered by cute, white aprons. When a blonde waitress who was cleaning a table spotted my friends’ enamoured looks, she laughed and shot a wink in our direction.

Noah sighed dreamily: “Holy shit, I think she just winked at me…”

Caleb immediately elbowed the stomach of his best friend and answered jealously: “No, she wasn’t! She was winking at me!”

A small fight broke out between the two, which included a lot of name-calling, shoving limbs in each other’s faces, etc. Because Noah and Caleb were trapped between the seat, the table, Nick and Hakim, this inevitably meant that the latter two also had to get involved. I was not worried and instead looked outside the window. Noah and Caleb were like peas in a pod; because of their bad tempers, fights would frequently break out between the two of them, but they would just as easily be resolved. Their short squabbles would never be able to tear their friendship apart.

With its wooden folding chairs and regular, round cafeteria tables, the outside felt very thematically disjointed from the rest of the dinner. Despite this, I caught myself wishing that the group had chosen to sit outside so we could have enjoyed the slowly weakening warmth of the sun a bit longer. I had no right to complain though; I was not one of the people with severe sunburns and the cool interior of the building was definitely the second-best option. Still, I could not help but envy the customers who had gotten ahold of a table under the sun.

My attention was suddenly drawn to, what appeared to be, an argument between a young waitress and a couple. I could not hear them and the sun made their silhouettes hard to distinguish, but I was curious as to what the problem was, so I squeezed my eyes to see what was happening outside. The waitress had her back turned to me and was not wearing a skirt like the others, but long, tight, white pants that highlighted all the right parts of the lower body. Her blonde hair was also notable because it was tied up in a cute, messy bun. However, I soon realised with horror that I was terribly, terribly wrong. It was his hair, not her hair. Not a waitress, but a waiter.

I felt very embarrassed for a moment for making such a dumb mistake, but that quickly changed to downright panic when the waiter suddenly snatched up a plate from the table and turned around. He looked absolutely furious and when we met eyes, my body stiffened with fear. I was like a deer caught in headlights and I cursed myself for not being able to look away. Oh god, had I made him mad by staring at him? Had he read my mind? No, that was impossible, but that death stare still served me right for just thinking what I had been thinking…

Fortunately, the furious look on his face quickly made way for a tired, but soft and genuine, smile, which quickly turned my stiff body into a pile of goo. His gorgeous, dark, chocolate-coloured eyes held my gaze captive for a moment while he tucked a stray strand of hair behind his ear. My mind was completely empty as I stared deeply into his eyes and I could only vaguely remember at the back of my head that he had probably been looking so angry because of his recent argument with the customers, not because of me.

I was awoken from my trans by Jacob’s voice: “Hey, Jo, do you know what you want to order?”

“Huh?”

I turned to face him and he looked at me strangely. “Do you have any idea what you want to order yet? I can’t decide and so far your recommendations have been great today!"

“Oh, sorry, I haven’t even looked at the menu yet,” I answered awkwardly and I swiftly snatched an ugly, greasy menu out of Emmett’s hands.

“Hey! I haven’t decided yet!” Emmett complained.

“Too late!” Jacob laughed. “You’ve been staring at that piece of paper for the last ten minutes! Now make up your mind already or I’ll order something for you and trust me, you do not want me to order something for you.”

After I had flipped through the menu a few times and had decided what Jacob and I should order, I discreetly looked outside again from the corner of my eyes. To my dismay, the waiter had vanished, but I secretly hoped I would get to see him again today.