She was a tough old bird

She was just a slightly built woman. Couldn’t have been more than five foot one and maybe 105 pounds soaking wet. She had ice cold light blue eyes that peered out over the wire rimmed glasses that sat on her slightly hooked nose. I sometimes perceived it as a beak. She was just built that way.

She had been in the waitress business all her life. From my perspective, that seemed at least sixty years. In truth it was probably more like fifty. Youth can be so unforgiving of older folks. She had a shell that was built from all the years of dealing with the nastiness that this job can dish up. That is what made her special. I knew the outside was hard, impenetrable, and invincible but I also knew that inside there was a marshmallow heart. Don’t ask me how I knew this, I just did. I respected her for it. I was my secret. I knew she was really a softy, but had to have the shell for protection, for existence itself.

I kept my distance, just in case I was wrong.

We worked together for some time. She put up with most of my youthful blunders and misplaced priorities. Sure I needed the money but I had no intention of making this my career, so I had different feelings about the job. She knew this was all she would ever do as far as a working career was concerned and she did it well. No, she did it better than anyone I had ever seen. It was pure poetry in motion to see her handle a busy breakfast.

What’ll be Sam? The usual? Yeah, Terry, three eggs sunny side up, rye toast, no butter and lots of home fries and a cup of coffee. The coffee was in front of him before he finished his order and she waltzed into the kitchen singing his order: Nick give me three on one looking at you, whiskey dry, all the way. She loved it and it showed.

I loved it too, the show. She was great. Sometimes she would talk of her daughter and how she missed having her around. She passed away several years earlier leaving only memories for Terry. She would not talk about it much, but it was clear that the memory of her relationship with her daughter was a guiding force in her life. That’s how I knew she had a marshmallow heart filling up the hard exterior shell.

Once while admiring her ability I thought I would try a little conversation. I knew that you could make more money if you worked the dinner shift instead of breakfast. It was all percentages; the tab is bigger at night. Why don’t you work the dinner shift, I asked. She said she would never work the dinner shift again. There is a certain danger for a single woman to be coming and going at those odd hours. Her daughter begged her before she passed away to promise that she would never work the night shift, that she would never take that risk. She made that promise and was honoring it.

I enjoyed watching her deal with the cranky customers too. She could handle anything, or so it seemed. It was amazing this little skinny woman was ready to take on anyone at any time. The day she dealt with the grumpiest biggest nastiest looking guy I think I have
ever seen she won me over. I’ll never forget it. This guy was just looking for trouble and was the type who would really take advantage of someone who was smaller and weaker. It was clear he was going to be dishing out grief for Terry the entire time he was here, because he could. He was a steady customer but was much grumpier than usual; she took it in the beginning. But it seemed to get harder and harder for her to ignore his insulting comments. I was curious how she was going to handle the situation, it was clear that something had to give.

Then in the way that only she could do, she walked up to him and tilted her head up so she could look him right in the eye. She pointed her right index finger at his nose and shook it in a choppy up and down motion causing the loose skin on the back of her upper arm to shake back and forth and said…Joe you need to go and take a good poop for yourself, then you’ll feel better.

It was amazing. She tamed this giant of a man and by the time he was ready to leave they were laughing and joking like old friends. He left a tip larger than anyone in the place could recall him leaving and said something about seeing her tomorrow. When he left I had to tell her how impressed I was with what she had done. She replied that sometimes she had to play rough, but usually people just want to be noticed. I guess this one needed a two by four. It worked.

E Rossopoulos 2003