A few months ago, not long after my hiring, I began to pick out the "usuals" in the restaurant. Among the many, The Cookie Monster stood out most to me. Maybe it was my resentment of being detested by another human by no fault of my own, but for some reason, I felt like I should say something to this guy.
It was late, and there were only four hooters girls left in the restaurant, including the bartender, when the "Cookie Monster" walked in. I'd seen him at the bar regularly, but still had yet to experience any reasoning behind his "name." The last of my tables was getting up to leave and I was finishing up my side work, when one task brought me dangerously close to this man. He looked over and our eyes met. I stopped. Do I say something? Or do I ignore him like he's been ignoring me for the past three months?
"Hey there." I smiled, trying to look occupied.
"Hi!" He smiled back.
I stopped. Was he really acknowledging me right now? His hard face turned soft, like a nostalgic old man. We exchanged pleasantries. He explained to me that he liked the first three letters of my name because they were the same as the first three letters of his name. Any time I'd walk by him, he's start on about the most random of topics. He could tell me a fact about any place. Specific dates. Important politicians. Animals. Weather. Everything. This guy was about as smart as he was socially inept.
One day he asked if I liked hot sauce, now every time I see him, he has a huge bottle of hot sauce waiting for me. Kind of weird but it beats the evil eye. I'm just glad I get escorted to my car after work every night.
Et tu, Brute?
3 weeks ago