The Diner

Two men sat in the local diner, leaning over steaming cups of tea, seemingly discussing life’s trials. Sandra saw it all the time, but these two were suspicious to say the least. One had graying hair, thick rimmed glasses and was smartly dressed in a cardigan like jacket and tight fitting jeans. Nestled snugly into the bracelet groove on his wrist was a loom band bracelet that someone had given him and the brooding part of her stirred with a desire that her current boyfriend refused to satiate.

The other man was almost the complete opposite. His trousers were dust coated and holes were appearing where it was becoming more threadbare. His shirt was a vile green under a black hoodie jacket and although he looked younger than the other man, he was already bald on the top of his head with only the sides and back of his head covered by thinning brown hair. He too wore thick rimmed glasses.

Sandra nudged Mark, her boss. “What do you think they’re talking about?” she said.

Mark looked up from the bacon he was flipping over to look in the direction of her jutting chin at the two men, the smarter of the two now gesticulating wildly while the other smiled and nodded.

He shrugged and went back to turning meat so it cooked evenly. He looked at the smarter man who now held his hands about shoulder width apart. “Maybe he’s bragging about how big he is?” he sniggered.

Sandra nudged him in the side with a frown. “Don’t be gross, he looks way too classy to be like that.”

Mark laughed and began plating up. “The classy ones are the worst.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” she replied, putting her hands on her slender aproned hips. “He looks like a gentleman.”

“Women don’t want that anymore,” he said scooping a portion of beans from the pot then arranged a couple slices of toast and then placed the plate on the counter to serve up the other plate. “They say they want it but then are always swayed by the bad boy with the motorbike.”

“We do not!”

“Yes they do, so men gave up with it. Why be the perfect gentleman when all you end up doing is watching the one you feel fanatically in love with walk away with another man who uses and discards her? Watch that enough times…” he shrugged. “Anyway, their food’s ready.”

Sandra thought over Mark’s words as she carried the plates over, weaving between the chairs of the other patrons. As the distance closed, she thought of the man again and allowed herself a mini daydream of what it would be like. They’d have two kids, no three. Two girls and a boy so that he would always be outnumbered. He probably had a good paying job so that her pay could be for her to enjoy and spoil the kids with. They’d have a large house, car each. They’d go on holidays, see the world..

“…And then she said that I wouldn’t dare,” the man said as she came into earshot. She could see his smug expression now as his back had been more or less to her the whole time. “so I put it up there.”

“No way,” the other said wincing.

“Yup, her face was a picture. She’ll get me back soon for it I’m sure.” The man laughed and the conversation dropped as Sandra was noticed.

She laid the plates down and forced a smile while asked if they wanted anything else. She then retreated, her daydream crumbling with each step back to the counter.