"Damn kid, I don't think the grill was this clean when it was first bought."
A shadow of a smile came and went on the 23 year old's face. As nice as it was on those occasions when his manager commended him for his work, anyone could have done it.
Anyone could have been the busboy at Catignano's, but it was him.
Anyone could have scrubbed at the daily mess that caked the grill, but it was him.
Anyone could have been stuck with no plans this Valentine's Day, dreading the moment quitting time came around because it only reminded him of the pathetically lonely and pedestrian life he knew deep down someone as grand as him clearly didn't deserve.
But it was him, Holden March.
The giant clock over the fixings bar read 6:28, he frowned thinking of how he had only managed to squeeze barely another half-hour out of his boss that day, damning his talent at cleaning the grill off. The manager always wondered how Holden and Holden alone could make it immaculate, but the answer was simple: he just thought of every girl that wouldn't have given him so much as a second glance. Every piece of filth, every dollop of grease, every unwanted morsel stuck to the surface was just another dumb bitch that broke his heart. As much as he wanted to lock them all in a room and obliterate them for what they did, it wasn't feasible. But for a brief moment as the all-purpose spray foamed and ate at the collection of filth, a cathartic sense of peace briefly placated the enraged lad as he imagined them in the place of the grime, emitting one last scream or plea for mercy before dissolving into the nothingness and being wiped away and disposed of.
"Excuse me, Mr. C." Holden piped up.
"Yes Holden, what is it."
"I was wondering if there was anything else to do before leaving."
The man sighed as he processed Holden's request.
"Holden, bud, I'm glad you're dedicated tonight I really am…but, you've already been here since one. Aren't you tired?"
Holden shook his head as his boss looked around at the guests.
"Tell ya what. It's busy right now, I'll give you an extra fifteen minutes to get everyone topped off on water. Fifteen minutes. Not. A second. More."
"Please don't talk to me like I'm stupid." Holden replied a little testily. "I understand you."
"Hey, you're the one begging me for stuff to do tonight." The manager replied with his demeanor changing. "I got other people whose hours you're almost cutting into."
Holden picked up the water pitchers and immediately began to serve the customers. With each clink of the ice cubes, he reminded himself of the old saying "careful what you wish for". While work bought him time from the undeserved celibacy that awaited him at home, he still had to endure a restaurant full of face-sucking couples too busy being smitten with each other to be concerned with the world around them.
The one in the far corner occupied a special level of hate; they were young, drunk and in love and came in the restaurant buzzed out of their skulls. From the minute they sat down all the two of them had done was make out. It reminded Holden of his amorous next door neighbors Leah Simms and John Brewer. He, a stereotypical "Jersey Joe" douche of a guy that might as well be more AXE body spray than man, she a stuck-up bitch caked with more make up than an average circus clown. Weighing the pros and cons of interacting with these two oversexed orangutans and chronic loneliness, he bellied up to the couple and cleared his throat.
"Ahem."
No answer.
"Ahem!"
"The hell you want?" He slurred at Holden.
"I was going to ask if you needed a refill on your water." Holden said slowly. "But I'm also wondering if the booth needs fumigating after you leave." . ?f=421&t=21723
"Don't get…all…pissy with us you little shit." The girl replied loudly. "It's not our fault you got a dry dick tonight."
"Yeah, grab a crayon psycho and take our order."
"Excuse me I'm just a busboy, I pour water and gather dishes." Holden replied testily. "I will be glad to get a waiter-"
"EXCUSE ME MANAGER!" The man bellowed. "WE GOT A PROBLEM!"
"What the hell Holden?"
"I'm sorry, these two were too busy all but screwing each other to-"
"Why isn't he taking our order?"
"Well, technically he's a busboy-"
"-Like I was trying to tell them-"
"-Holden, shut up!"
"-Maybe if he'd get his mouth off his girlfriend and realize what I do here-"
"Well pardon me I didn't realize I was in the presence of Einstein or-"
"Sir! I'm handling him. Holden, this can't keep going on-"
"FUCK VALENTINE'S DAY!"
A pitcher of water splashed upon the couple. The girl caught the brunt of it, cubes of ice pelted her face, smearing her make-up. She took the other pitcher from Holden and proceeded to do the same to the man. As the couple left the restaurant in a huff, the manager directed Holden to clean the mess and call it a night, but not before muttering something about a 'June'. As he picked up each cube and mopped up the water, a determined smile seemed to appear on the lonely young man's face.
