The Customer

Being a waitress in one of the most popular diners in my part of town, I have the privilege to come in contact with so many interesting faces. You have the customers that think of you as a pet and speak to you as such, loosely supervised children who view me as nothing more than a food bullseye and a manager that passively aggressively encourages harder work--as if I am not working hard as a radiator as is. Most people come in, eat their food and leave. Some people may even leave a tip, in their unfinished food. One customer, though, was very different.

He was a man of middle age who always sat at the counter. He always looked like he was going to a business meeting. He usually had on a suit with those shoes that your nana tells you to put pennies in. He comes in every Tuesday and Thursday and makes it his mission to speak even if I am running. He’d stay for breakfast but leave thirty minutes before lunch and return during dinner. He would order the same thing, a cup of coffee with light cream and three sugars for breakfast and country fried steak with green beans and sweet tea for dinner. He always smelled like freshly cleaned swimming pool water. He always had the paper when he came in. He’d been coming to this diner for about a year with this same routine, up until a week ago. This was the first time I had ever seen him without his paper, instead, he sat down at the counter and ordered his usual. I thought to myself, “this shouldn’t be bothering me”, but it was. I wondered, what changed? Did he get mugged or something? I turn to hand him his coffee and he pulls this little book out of his coat pocket.

I thought nothing of it at first. He sat at the counter drinking coffee and every now and then, he’d scribble things in his little black book. He keeps up a conversation with me as I drop off and pick up orders. He is filled with so many questions that I can’t help but ask, “Are you a cop?” – I know, paranoid right?—He laughed without looking up and said, “No ma’am, I’m not”. What a beautiful smile he has. Until this very moment, I realized I had never seen it.

We easily developed a relationship of playful banter as time went on. He would tease that the ketchup stain on my apron brought out my fire engine red hair and I’d thank him and tell him that the green bean between his teeth brought out his lovely green eyes—there’d be nothing between his teeth, but still watching him check tickled me pink. My Tuesdays and Thursdays seemed to fly by as a result and I appreciated it.

One Thursday, I showed up to work, as usual, ready for whatever this place had to throw. I couldn’t wait to tell my new friend about the madness I witnessed on the city bus, I knew he’d appreciate the humor. To my surprise, he didn’t show, which was odd for him. I thought that maybe he got tied up at work or something. I began to worry a little and my mind began to think of different situations that may be the cause. The following Tuesday was the same to my surprise. “Did I do something wrong, was it something I said”? I felt like I was in the twilight zone. I asked the other waitress if she’d seen him and of course, she didn’t know who I was talking about. I began to worry at this point but with all of our conversations, I realized I never asked him his name!

It had been a few weeks now and I still hadn’t seen him, I didn’t know what to think or how to even look for my friend with no name. It was almost lunch time so I was going back over my tickets at the register to make sure I didn’t miss anything during the breakfast rush. I look up to see a man standing at the counter squinting at my shirt, which I of course had reservations about. He noticed my stern look and asked nervously with an intense stutter, “A-are y-y-you A-Au-Audie?” My forehead wrinkles and in a perplexed tone, I answer, “Yes. Is there something I can help you with?” I had never met this man before but he called me by my nickname, only friends and family called me Audie. He explained that he was a courier sent by an anonymous client to deliver a package. My head spins because you just never know, you know? He leaves the package on the counter and anxiously walks out of the diner. I take the package to the back to open it. To my surprise, folded money falls out, twenty grand worth! I pick it up and read the card attached to the little black book, “Dear Audie, I hope this reaches you before your days end so that you can decide on how it ends. I enjoyed getting to know you and appreciate you getting to know me. In the book, you will find your tips from customers past. I wrote down every incident that I witnessed where a tip was much deserved but not left, I even included payments for the free coffees; although much appreciated. If you have received it, then that means I have expired. I was ill for a long time and longed for a meaningful friendship and you gave me that, for that, I thank you. Please don’t die in that hell hole, you’re too amazing for that. Peace and love, Marvin”. I tear up instantly and lean against the table to gain balance, where do I go from here?