by Ken Tanaka

Created on: November 04, 2008   Last Updated: November 05, 2008

It was six, and I was expecting Mrs. Terry Fry to come in the door at any moment and sit at her favorite table in the non-smoking section. Mrs. Fry came to the restaurant at least twice a week. Nobody liked Terry. She was short-tempered, argumentative, sulky, obese, and going on seventy-four. I busied myself at the counter polishing glasses.

The door opened. It was Terry.

"Hello Ma'am." Colin, a fellow waiter, asked. "Where would you like to sit?"

"Where indeed! You know where." Terry snapped.

"Of course." Colin said through his teeth. "Right this way."

He mouthed an inaudible "old hag" as he passed me at the counter.

"Will you be having the usual?" Colin asked her, once she was seated.

"Don't be impertinent." She muttered, "I'll have a glass of melon soda, and the caeser salad without the horrible blue cheese dressing. And I want a beef steak."

That was certainly new. She had never ordered anything but soda and salad.

"Coming right up." Colin turned around and made a beeline to the kitchen and rattled off the woman's order.

"I don't get it," said Kate, who was one of the cooks, "Didn't she get mad at you last time for leading her to her usual table instead of asking where she'd like to sit?"

"Yeah. You never know with her. Alright, I'm getting off duty now." And Colin went home.

"Why did she order a steak? She never eats meat." I asked Kate.

"I don't know, Sam." Kate replied. "But in any case, she won't like the way it's cooked."

Sure enough, Terry didn't.

"You tell the chef the steak's been cooked to death. I can't even chew it." Terry muttered. So, I took the steak back to the kitchen.

"You were right." I said, "Too cooked."

Kate rolled her eyes. "What does she want? Sushi? That woman is impossible. I just don't understand her."

Neither did I, I thought. Ten minutes later, I served Terry a new steak.

"Now that's better." She said, and then reached for the black pepper grinder. She chewed thoughtfully for a moment and looked me right in the eye. "You all hate me here, isn't that right?"

I was caught completely off guard. "Why would you say that?" I asked, pouring her a glass of wine.

Terry just shook her white head and reached for her glass.

"Well, you don't need to worry." She continued. "I'll be dead soon. That's right, you heard me. I'll be dead."

I played with the corners of my apron uneasily.

She laughed a little ironically as she continued to tuck into her steak with a strange eagerness, and said between bites, "My doctor had me on therapy for an year. I was on a strictly

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