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Day 117 – Standards – Short Story

He sits at the table and looks around the room, the wait staff move quickly and purposely around the room, he looks back down at his watch and breaks another breadstick in half and lets out a sigh.

“I’m sorry to disturb you again sir, but are you ready to order yet?” the waitress asks.

“I guess I might as well, what do you recommend?”

“Sir, it depends what you like, I’d recommend the pork belly, that’s from a personal opinion, as it’s my favourite dish on the menu, but if you are not a fan of pork I would go the…”

“I’ll have the pork belly,” he replies.

She smiles, “Would you like any drinks?”

“The cheapest bottle of red you have on the menu,” he says with a laugh.

“I think I can arrange that for you,” she says as she quickly hurries off back towards the kitchen, he leans back and watches as she disappears through the doorway, catching a backwards glance from her at the same time, he smiles.

“Mister Wilcock?” a voice says, he turns around to lock eyes with an attractive blonde, mid forty’s, obvious dyed hair, skirt leaves nothing to the imagination, he can see the outline of a girdle from underneath her blouse, she holds out her hands and smiles through her over-layered make-upped face.


“Yes, sorry I’m so late, the traffic in this city is terrible, as are most of the people here,” she says as she raises her hand in the air and clicks her fingers, rolling her eyes in her head. “So hard for people to do what they are supposed to,” she says in an uppity voice.

“Please Susan, allow me,” he says as he quickly gets up and pulls the chair out for her and she sits down, with a smile.

“Why thank you, the words on the grape vine are true about your manners,” she says.

“Manners make the man, that’s what my mother told me anyway,” he says as he lets out a laugh.

“Yes, that’s what all mothers say to their boys, to make sure they know how to treat a woman correctly,” she says, the waitress comes back to the table with a bottle of red and her face drops when she sees the woman sitting there, he catches her eyes and smiles and raises his shoulders as if to say he’s surprised to.

Fiona turns as the waitress places the bottle on the table and her nose wrinkles up her face. “What in heaves name is this trash, do you know who we are young lady? This drivel may be what tickles your inept, uneducated tastebuds but I can assure you that..”

“Fiona, I ordered the wine, there is no need..” He interrupts.

“Don’t apologise for this here child’s inability to correctly bring out a wine fitting of people such as we are David, now off with this trash you poor excuse for a waitress, and fetch us something more too our social standing, and don’t count on any sort of tip tonight my dear, as this inexcu…”

The waitress races off towards the kitchen and David quickly stands up, “Thank you Susan, but you can stop your rantings, as this night is over, I would say it’s been a pleasure, but the fact you were forty eight minutes late and did not even call to let me know you were running late tested most of my patients, if you were not a potential client I would have left a long time ago. I have spent too many of my years surrounded by pathetic leeches like you, who don’t know how to extend even the politest hand to the people who are nothing but courteous to her, don’t attempt to contact me or my company again, as we will not be doing any more work with you are your colleagues, good evening,” he says as he walks away, she sits there dumbfounded.

He makes his way through the doors to the kitchen and is abruptly stopped by one of the staff.

“Sorry sir but you can’t be..”

“Sorry, I don’t mean to be mean or anything, I know the rules and all, but I’m looking for the young girl, five foot three maybe, blonde, blue hair, she just rushed in this way.”

“You mean Fiona?”

“Yes, Fiona, which way did she go?”

“Out the back, that way,” he says nervously as he points to a set of doors.

“Thank you,” He says as he slams a fifty dollar note into the man’s hand and quickly makes his way out the back, where he can her someone crying.

“Fiona?” he says, the crying stops and he sees her head pop up from behind some boxes.



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