Lasting Impressions. John Schlarbaum

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СКАЧАТЬ was exasperated by her speech, but her handsome customer had simply waited her out, with a smile on his face.

      "It was sirloin steak and fries, I think," he said. "At least I hope that's what you wrote down."

      Olivia looked down at her notepad and then back at the stranger. "Yes, of course," she said stumbling over her words. "I'm a bit confused at the moment."

      "I hope it wasn't because I said your name," the man apologized. "I always check my server's nametag when they come along. I think it makes the meal more personable, don't you?"

      Olivia looked at her nametag. "It would be even more personable if I knew your name."

      "It's Dale. There, you know my name and I know yours. I guess you can say we're on a level playing field now."

      As he spoke, Dale's eyes slowly met Olivia's and wouldn't let go. At first mesmerized, she was struck by his piercing stare, yet the longer he held her gaze the eerier she felt. It was like staring at the sun for too long; at some point its effects begin harming you, forcing you to look away. This was how Olivia was feeling. Completely taken by this man's physical good looks, she still wanted to get away from him. It wasn't that he scared her per se, it was the overall effect he was having on her.

      In the blink of an eye, the spell was broken. He looked away and Olivia felt in control again, even if it took her a moment to regain some poise.

      "Did you want anything to drink with that, Dale?"

      "A draft would be fine."

      "Great. I'll have Betty bring it over to you," Olivia said, stepping away from the table.

      "Aren't you going to be my waitress?"

      "Yes and no. I'll still be your waitress, but because of my age, legally I can't serve drinks. Alcoholic ones, that is."

      "If that's the case, change my order to a root beer," Dale said. "I don't want some other waitress serving me."

      Flattered, Olivia smiled back. "Root beer it is."

      She walked amongst the maze of tables, unaware other customers were trying to get her attention. Once in the kitchen, she put the order on the wheel and was about to re-enter the dining room when Burt called to her.

      "I'm sorry to do this but Lucy showed up, meaning I won't need you for the rest of the night."

      "But Burt!" Olivia began to protest.

      "Don't worry about the money, Olivia. I'll still pay you for the entire hour and a half, okay?" he said wiping his brow of perspiration. "Arrange things with Lucy and go home. Enjoy yourself tonight."

      Olivia could see the die had been cast and that she wouldn't be serving the mysterious Dale his meal. After coordinating tables with Lucy, Olivia changed into her street clothes. As she was preparing to leave Burt reminded her to grab another uniform. Diligently she went to the closet and picked one a size larger.

      "I'm outta here, Burt," she said.

      "See you Sunday at noon."

      Olivia made her way to the dining room where she caught Dale motioning for her to come to his table.

      "Was I that bad of a customer you have to leave?" he asked as she came within earshot. "That other waitress - Lucy - she isn't as pretty or as helpful as you are. I hope it wasn't anything I said."

      Olivia began to experience a variety of colliding emotions. Did he say that I was pretty? This guy could have any woman on the planet and he thinks I’m pretty!

      "No," she began, "I was filling in for Lucy and she got here earlier than expected, which means I'm no longer needed."

      "That's great," Dale said. "Now you can sit down and we can get to know each other better."

      "I don't know," Olivia replied slowly. For some reason Dale made her uneasy. For once in her life, she remembered some advice her mother had told her while struggling to define the birds and the bees to a 12 year old: "No matter what situation you're in, if you don't feel comfortable about it in your heart, don't do it!" she'd said. "You'll thank yourself later."

      Olivia understood what her mother was trying to say, but recalling it now it did seem a bit old-fashioned. There was more to Dale than met the eye and it was that hidden quality that intrigued her. She didn't know what to do. If only she were given a sign that would help her decide whether to walk out and forget this guy, or stay and become his friend. Dale must have a million friends, she told herself. On the other hand, at this very moment he is eating alone in a strange town with no friends in sight.

      She really wanted to make the right decision.

      "Your eye shadow and lipstick are mauve, aren't they?" Dale inquired, breaking her train of thought. "Mauve's my favourite colour."

      As she sat down, Olivia silently acknowledged whoever was responsible for giving her the sign to stay.

      Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!

      ***

      Olivia was lightheaded and happy.

      She and Dale had hit it off immediately, like they'd known each other from another lifetime and by chance, accident, or divine intervention, they'd met again in the unlikely spot of Burt's Bar & Grill.

      During their conversation, Olivia's shy girl tendencies cropped up, no matter how hard she tried to act worldly. The amazing thing was that Dale didn't appear to mind. He was genuinely interested in what she had to say, which wasn't much.

      "Have you been hitchhiking long?" she asked.

      "I've been on the road for most of my life," Dale said grabbing his root beer.

      "What about school or your family?"

      Dale put down his drink and looked around the bar. "Let's just say that I didn't handle either one of those subjects very well."

      As she looked at him, Olivia could tell she'd hit a raw nerve and changed topics. "I get along fine in school, except for geography and science, but who does good in those anyway? And as far as my family goes, there's only my mother and me. My father left when I was young."

      "You're lucky for that."

      "For being a good student or that my father left me?"

      "Both," he said with a smile. "I didn't exactly get along with my old man, so I think anyone who has a father is either lucky or cursed. You're the exception: no father means no curse or luck, I guess. You hold your own destiny, which means you don't have to listen to anyone's opinion. Set your mind to accomplishing some goal and you can get it done."

      "That's if my mother approves," Olivia said with a smile.

      "Oh yeah, you have one of those. No matter, you're still your own person and that's what counts. Don't let anybody tell you different."

      Olivia wasn't sure what to make of Dale Hawks. Was he simply an incredibly good looking man with some thoughtful advice for a young teenager? Or was he some kind of "destiny and individual rights" freak? Whichever he was, Olivia would be content to watch him talk all night, if СКАЧАТЬ