People Watching

This selection is a journal assignment from my Intro to Literature class, in which we were instructed to sit, people watch, and listen in on the conversations we heard. Enjoy.

“People Watching”

I can see her nerves mounting as the hostess seats them at the far table near the window. She takes the distant seat, closest to the isle, and he sits across from her. He fidgets with his phone as she decides where to put her belongings. I catch him stealing a glimpse of her décolleté as she turns to hang her purse on the back of her chair. The waitress introduces herself and takes their drink order: A margarita on the rocks for him, and a Corona for her. I enjoy a quick, awkward silence between them before the waitress returns with a basket of chips and a bowl of salsa. He is admiring her as she thanks the waitress, but she doesn’t seem to notice; I wonder if she is too nervous to lock eyes with him, as though the act would somehow reveal her innermost thoughts. She smiles a lot as they talk, but she nervously glances out the window every few moments. His eyes never leave her. Her hands fidget under the table as she talks, but lay still in her lap when he speaks. She watches his mouth as they converse, as though his crater-like dimples are hypnotizing her.

            He’s extremely handsome and physically fit, though it’s obvious he’s a few years her senior. Her body is slightly awkward, but she has a beautifully fresh face and a smile that could outshine the sun. There is an undeniable chemistry building between them, and I hypothesize that they were set up through mutual friends, and I am witness to their first date. The conversation becomes lighter as the waitress delivers their drinks, and takes their food order. The waitress walks away and a quiet moment passes as they both quench their thirsts with their newly acquired libations.

There is something innocent in the way her looks at her – he lifts his eyes but his chin is lightly tucked downward. She slouches slightly, except when she catches herself doing so, and corrects her posture (which doesn’t last long.) An employee arrives tableside, and prepares for them a fresh guacamole. She reaches behind her and pulls out two one-dollar bills from her purse. “What’s that for?” He inquires. “For him,” she replies, shifting her eyes towards the young man mixing the guacamole. “Oh!” He replies, as she tucks the money into the tip jar. “Gracias,” she says, with a curiously authentic accent for a young Caucasian woman. He seems impressed, though I’m not sure whether it is by her generosity, or her accent.

They take turns dipping chips into the earthy green treat, taking care to never grab a chip from the basket at the same time, possibly for fear that if their hands touch the ensuing sparks could catch the nearby curtains on fire. The waitress brings the entrees shortly after, and the conversations seems to cease. Each of her bites is deliberate, yet delicate, and he eats at twice her speed. He offers her a taste of his meal, but she declines, blushing. A short time later, the waitress drops off Styrofoam to-go boxes, and they deposit their uneaten food into their respective receptacles, and split the leftover guacamole evenly.

               The waitress drops off the bill, and the three of them chat for a moment while he retrieves a credit card from his wallet. She has a twinge of protest on her face, and insists that he allow her to leave the tip, as the waitress leaves to run his card. He agrees, and she pulls a ten-dollar bill from her purse. The waitress returns with the credit card slip. He signs it, and they’re off.