The Starfish

The sliding door embarked on its opening path as Shay entered breathlessly, her arms full of plates teetering on the brink of her enveloped arms, like the Tower of Pisa, inclined to drop and smash at any second. “Corner!” she belted out while skirting around the immensely tall, solid, walnut bar, bearing imprints from Teddy Roosevelt’s day. It upheld the daily attitudes, lost phone numbers, failed marriages, and drunken foibles of every kind.

The Sunday rush at the smallish Pennsylvania eatery was at least a 9.7 on the Richter scale. ““Yo! Shay! Order up!” A disgruntled voice boomed from the kitchen. As she scrambled to deposit her dirty wares and get the next order out, she sighed. Thinking, wondering, she asked herself, “Will this job ever change? Will my life stop being so blasé, because of the boring, yet comfortable environment, even, just more interesting? She had studied to be a paralegal, but that was put on the backburner when divorce attorney bills took over life and work, as well as meaning.

“Hi girl,” the semi fake sounding, always slow, dark-haired Jess had just clocked in and immediately took a defiant stance mentally to the day ahead, but with an impervious smile still on her pale, delicate face. “Hey, what’s new with you, doll?” Jess was a remarkably smart and nice lady, but the job made her somewhat jaded and obsequious to a degree with her remarkable bartending skills, that Shay admired,

Shay had a knack for multi-tasking, not from the serving job, but from being a young mother, taking college classes, and dealing with a deadbeat musician husband. It served her well when she joined the Coast Guard after high school, as there were some days spent chasing cartel boats in the Gulf, some days swimming 2 ½ miles after a wayward Springer Spaniel who still had the stick in his mouth, and yet others just pushing paper to the tune of Leon Bridges.

“Hang on Jess, I have an impending customer, be back in a flash. It was a corny line to be sure, but well life was corny sometimes. Especially when you thought you knew someone, and they wound up getting a mullet. This was more embarrassing to Shay then being caught in Santa’s lap with a wool muff around her rollered up church hair at age 11. Pippi, her daughter was only 11 when Royce walked in the house with a translucent daze after an all nightery with that awful coiffure. “Duuuuude," Shay stammered in disbelief. Well, those days are over, she thought. With her possible upcoming well paying international job on the horizon, she was elated to be moving away, finally, but also bittersweet.

She and Jess were not especially close, but they went out for drinks on occasion and mini shopping breaks when they just had to escape the humid soaked stench of beer residue and boxed meat. Sometimes Jess, who had once been a member of Earth First and had helped plant spikes in trees, which injured two forest service workers who looked like they were extras on Point Break, felt badly about not being closer to Shay, but she just couldn’t trust people that easily, since her sister had pulled a 180 and not even shown up to her wedding. They had a superior time at work, though, always joking around and playing tricks on the cooks or yelling at them together. Jess even spent 6 months in a women’s prison for her time in that environmental organization, which helped her acquire some skills with locks and dealing with the public; supposedly was the one who came up with the idea to put spray insulation foam in the head chef’s locker, which Dick was quite upset about and retaliated by playing more and more Panera at an alarmingly annoying decibel level. When the hostage crisis unfolded at the Pennsylvania Court House last year, the radio stations started playing Tony Orlando and Dawn’s “Tie a Yellow Ribbon Round the Old Oak Tree,” and Dick would continually sing “,,,,,,the old pear tree,” much to everyone’s chagrin. He thought it was funny, but it just annoyed the hell out of the staff.

Hey, what time are we going to the skating rink this weekend on the group getaway?” Shay chimed. She was super excited about the winter outing as it was her favorite time of year. Possibly for most sensitive people, they loved these nostalgic times that embraced good etiquette and nice environments, along with an ever-evolving décor that was based on impeccable taste. “Jess, two top in the front,” Enrique was a boyish, but brutally evolved superhuman host/bartender who had a penchant for tears when the customers showered him with love and money. “Let the wicked witch of the East get it," Jess pointedly remarked and smirked. Shay shot her a look of woeful disdain as her shift was almost ended. “Don’t worry, she wasn’t as bad as the one from the West,” Jess giggled.

Dick came around the corner and made everyone’s day by informing the staff that tomorrow was a holiday. Jess and Shay slapped a high five and a burst of energy was felt by all. Shay suddenly was more than happy to pick up another table now, she was almost smug she was so happy. Sometimes, the world made sense, and the realization she had that morning when she wore her starfish ring in the shower for the first time, signified a deeper meaning, as starfish can rejuvenate their limbs after being in water, and so can she. Smiling, she leapt into action for the last order of the day.