It's Labor Day weekend on Fire Island (a combination of time and place that I was sure would finally drive me over the edge) and I'm back at Michael's Ristorante to help out a friend and make some quick dough. Saturday night's dinner shift was profitable overall- the number of diner's was decent, not too many counter slices, and a noticable amount of deliveries and catering. I was busy but not stuck in one area keeping my mood at the sub-bearable enjoyment necessary to stay on my toes with customers and coworkers.
We get to a breathing point in the night where dinner dies down and the late night drunks aren't jonesin' for pizza just yet and that's when she walked in. Just another customer at first, slightly demanding, with long brown hair, prominent rack and Louis Voutan bag. Then she grabs me. And begs for my help. "Listen, I'm from LA I have NEVER been here before but I have to leave. Help me get home, I can't be here."
"Okay, relax, let me see when the next ferry leaves."
"I just came here for the weekend and my friend is drunk, she just left with a random guy. She doesn't even know where she is. And I don't run with those kinds of people. (Um, yes you do.) I just want to get out of here." She grabs my arm "I will give you a hundred dollars if you get me home."
"Sure, okay. The next and last ferry isn't for an hour so why don't you order some food and we'll figure this out."
Now I don't get offers like this often, or ever, and I wasn't very comfortable with it. I mean, I was bussing tables and serving slices that night, I would have been lucky to make a hundred bucks on my own working honest and hard and this chick wants to give me enough money to support my drinking habit for the next month just for showing her where to walk? I figure, she's probably exaggerating about the exact amount of money, and it's in my nature to help whether there's money involved or not so I'll just go along as I usually would.
"I need to 2 glasses of wine now." (Hey we could really be friends)
So I set her up with the two wines that make the most sense: my favorite-shiraz, and that mixed red bottle we've been trying to get rid of. And I'm on with the rest of my work.
A few minutes later I'm helping another customer and I see her waving me over out of the corner of my eye. I go over when I'm finished with what I'm doing to hear the same story again. I try to calm her and walk away and just as I turn she squeels "And I just found out my boyfriends cheating on me" So I sit.
"He was seen bringing another woman into his building. And I'm not that sad but I better still get my 15 grand a month."
"Right right" is what I say before registering her last comment. 15 grand alimony from a man you weren't married to? I'm lost. Although I don't let on because I'd honestly rather not know.
"I'm not heartbroken I just need that money. I don't love him, he just pays me"
Now I don't run with people like this woman but who am I to judge, it's not like I'm rolling in it.
"Well that's just disappointing then. Fuck him for being a little boy, but your lucky you don't care about it. That money is your support system but it's worse when you care." I tell her, trying to create a bond.
Her phone rings. She hands it to me, "I can't talk to her, you do it" And suddenly I'm her personal assistant.
The rest of the details would make you knaw at your own skin from irritation and boredom but long story-short she left $34 tip on a $34 bill and gave me another $80 after walking her to the ferry (I rolled her suitcase down there also[who the fuck am i?!])
Judge me for accepting the money but the woman was evil, and it was her cheating old mans cash anyway. And that's how I got paid for saving a hooker in distress.
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