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Finish Her Story
Working 9 to 5

Working 9 to 5

When I first got the job at the Nighthawk Diner, they told me it was the 9 to 5 shift. What they did not tell me that it was the 9PM to 5 AM shift. And that the waiter who was supposed to come in for the 5AM to 1 PM shift was always late.

But I don’t complain because I need the money.

My glasses are old and loose, the door needs fixin’, and I need a new car.

I don’t make a lot during the overnight shift, but it’s enough to keep the lights on. The nights feel like they last forever, and the days are nothing but a dream to me.

I like to pretend I’m a vampire to make the shifts go by a little quicker.

One night, bored of my skull and thinking of wiping down the wooden countertop for the third time, a man walks in.

I ain’t ever seen him before.

Which is impossible because I know everyone in town.

He’s tall, and tired, his black hair messy and his blue eyes with bags underneath them. He’s hugging an old notebook underneath his arm like it keeps all the secrets to the universe.

He lumbers over to the back corner booth, and I prepare my greeting again in my head.

I put on my best smile even though I’m exhausted and say:

“Welcome to the Nighthawk Diner sir, can I get you some coffee”?

He looks at me and stares.

And stares.

I wonder if I said something weird. Did I talk loud enough? Is he just tired?

“Do you uh, do you want some coffee?”

“Yes. Yes, thank you uh….”

He squints real hard at my chest, and I panic until I realize he’s looking at my name tag.

“Thanks, Annabelle.”

I panic again and leave, but my hair goes everywhere, making me panic even more. I bend over slightly to the ground and my loose glasses slip off my face onto the floor.

He’s sweet, he offers to help me up, but I say no. I don’t want him to see my face turning redder than a tomato and I turn away from him.

“I don’t need your help sir; I can figure this out.”

I feel bad once the words fly out of my mouth. He’s just trying to help after all.

After a few more seconds of looking for my glasses, I finally found them, oddly enough, right in front of me!

“I told you I didn’t need no help.”

I regret putting my foot in my mouth again, and promise myself that I’m gonna work on that.

One day I’m gonna get myself in trouble.

I stand up and make my way to the red and white kitchen and start making a new cup of coffee. Charlie is at the grill, cleaning it down and starts to tease me.

“You talking someone’s head off again Anna?”

“No, but you bet I’m gonna get some info outta him.”

“INFO? What info?”

“He ain’t from here. He seems real nice.”

I talk about how handsome he is in hopes of Charlie getting jealous while I braid my hair. I think Charlie’s more handsome than the customer in the front, especially with his hair put up in the hair net. He seems so much more handsome whenever I can see his forehead, sweat dripping down it.

Instead of getting jealous Charlie snorts.

“Why don’t you just marry him? At least one of us will get the heck outta here.”

“Watch me.”

I wash my hands, pour out a new cup of coffee and bring it out. I start to think that he really is handsome when I see how focused he is on that notebook. He scribbles something down, crosses it out, then mumbles to himself.

He starts all over again.

Maybe that notebook really does have all the secrets to the universe.

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When I give him his coffee, I start to interrogate him about what he’s so focused on. He seems a little less tired, and his eyes light up once he talks about his book.

Ain’t no way he’s a real author.

What would he be doing out here?

I ask him what kind of book it is.

“Fantasy. They always tell writers to write what they know, but who is interested in writing about what they already know? Those books would get boring fast.”

“Well, what if all you know is fantasy? What then?”

He gets flustered and tries to explain the plot but it don’t seem that great to me. He suddenly seems shy, and I try to pry more information out of him, but Charlie yells at me from the back.

“What can I get you to eat, sir,” I say, remembering that I’m at work.

“Choose for me.”

As I give Charlie an order for chicken and waffles, I think about the old romance books I used to read when I was younger. The silly ideas it put in my head of true love, or love at first sight. Knights from another kingdom saving princesses and always having their happily ever after.

The older I got, the more….different….the books I read became, a lot less innocent than what I started out with. I grew up, and soon even the adult books didn’t seem the same. Maybe I’m just jaded. I can’t just run off with the first man that shows up that isn’t from Edelweiss.

I’m not my mother.

Charlie’s words echo in my head.

“Why don’t you just marry him? At least one of us will get the heck outta here.”

The thought seems charming while the chicken hits the fryer. The smell of waffles makes me hungry. But maybe I’m in love with the idea of being in love.

Maybe that’s why I’m always reading those books.

I don’t want love to be a fantasy book, something I’ll read about and never experience.

The chicken and waffles slide out onto my side of the kitchen, and I stop daydreaming and promise myself at least one thing.

I will be out of Edelweiss next summer, true love or not.

After the handsome stranger gets the best food in town from Charlie, I get to the next group of customers that come in. They’re stinky, they’re loud, but they’re the nicest men that come by every morning.

The truckers and construction workers take the same booths they take at the same time every morning. I quickly jot down what they want, my hand moving as fast as possible, because some of them can’t wait their turn.

While trying to a man with gnarled hands a bushy beard that we do not sell beer, someone pushes down the front door. It’s so fast that the little bell on top of the boor is knocked off it’s hinge and clatters to the floor.

He’s wearing a ski mask, a black hoodie, fingerless gloves, and blue jeans. At first I think he’s just cold with the ski mask on. I glare at him from breaking the bell but then it registers that he has a gun.

I start screaming, and then everyone in the restaurant is yelling, my head is spinning. Charlie runs to the front and his eyes become as wide as dinner plates.

The robber points his gun in the air and shoots it repeatedly, and I start screaming even louder.

“Everybody get down on the ground now!”