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I ran out of the room and up the hallway. My manager would kill me if I was late again. So even though I was in three and a half inch heels I ran. Once I got there another one of the waitresses, my closest friend, was hanging around, "Hey, Liv."
"Hi, Bethany, where am I at?" I asked and tied the little black pouch around my waist.
"Can you take the dining room today? I'm so hungover, I can't be trusted with sharp glass and silverware?" she requested.
"No problem," I agreed, "Dollar drafts, again?"
"And some free shots," she added and rubbed her head.
"Try to stand behind the desk and don't throw up again. No one will buy the food poisoning excuse twice," I ordered.
"Okay," she groaned.
"And if you need to throw up or relax or something here's my room key. It's 313," I added.
"You're so maternal, Liv, I don't know what I'd do without you."
If only she knew how maternal I once was. What she doesn't know won't hurt her. I never let anyone in on my past unless they already know. I walked over to a table, "Hi, what can I get for you?"
"Be a doll and get us a gin and tonic and whiskey on the rocks," the guy said.
One thing that sucked about being a waitress was the men. They assumed you were a curvy robot who solely existed to refill their drinks. As I walked over to the bar, I heard Bethany's giggles. What was wrong with her now?
"What's that behind your ear?"
The man can levitate and cremate himself and he still does stuff like that. I haven't seen him or talked to him since the park incident. And I didn't need a crystal ball to see that I didn't plan on it anytime in the near future. He clearly had different plans though as he stalked over, "What about you, is there something behind there, too?"
"It's in your hand," I informed just as he was reaching behind my ear.
"Oh, so you know that one," he said defeated and put the quarter into his pocket.
"I'm pretty sure everyone knows that one," I added.
"I've been looking for you, ya know."
"That's comforting, I'm being stalked by a magician," I thought out loud.
"It's not really stalking. If I really wanted to find you I'd break into your room or something," he assured.
"So what you're really saying is you don't really wanted to find me?"
"Why do you gotta go and twist my words around like that? It hurts, Liv, it really hurts. I'm doing a near death stunt tonight, and I'd hate you to have to deal with that on your conscience if something does go wrong."
"I think I'll learn to live with myself," I assured sarcastically, "Now, excuse me, I have work to do."
"Wait," he stopped, "Why don't you come?"
It was clear that I wasn't going anywhere unless I at least lied and said I would go, "Maybe I'll swing by once I get off."
He smiled satisfied and started to leave, "See you there."
"I only said maybe!" I reminded.
"I'm a mentalist, remember?"
"More like mental," I mumbled and walked over to Bethany, "My pen ran out of ink."
"God is he sexy and a half," she raved.
"Stop talking like a twelve year old girl and pay attention," I instructed.
"He looked really into you," she informed.
"No, he looked like he REALLY wanted to get INTO my pants," I corrected.
"And what's wrong with that? That's how a vast majority of my relationships go down," she added.
"Yeah, down the toilet," I shot back.
"How many people have you had sex with, Olivia?" she asked.
"Isn't that a little personal?"
"No, you don't have to be embarrassed, not everyone's really active. What is it, 5, 6?" she interrogated.
"2."
"Two?! Were you in a convent for half of your life?!" she shouted.
"Shut up! See, I knew you'd make a big deal out of it!" I shushed.
"Well, it is a big deal! You're wasting your youth, when was the last time you had sex?" she pressed on.
"I am definitely not answering that," I denied still searching for a writing utensil.
"Olivia, for the love of God!"
"Two years, okay! I haven't had sex in two years!" I shared a little louder than I had planned.
"Two years?! Attention, all men…"
"Bethany, knock it off!"
"Well, you're going to that stunt tonight, and maybe if we're lucky he'll give you a little action," she decided.
Bethany just didn't understand. Getting laid or fooling around held no desire for me. Those phrases were so ugly and shallow. They don't show the true beauty of what's supposed to happen when you do that; a baby.
That's right; so many times people forget that those parts weren't just put there to have fun with. They have a purpose, one that I know all too much about. Ever since Kenny left my life, I haven't wanted to have sex. What if I had another baby and they got ripped away from me just like he was? I couldn't deal with that again.
Plus, aren't you supposed to have sex because you're in love? Isn't that why some people call it "making love?" Well, my idea of love fell into the grave with the undersized coffin of my little boy.