Hustle and Bustle

The season of rain has passed and the heat has returned to the desert once again. The sun rays make the city feel like one giant oven, but it is cool with in the restaurant. Apparently I am not the only one, as I see the restaurant full of patrons. It’s busy for being the early afternoon. I guess everyone is grabbing a late lunch today.

Though there are few tables open, a family of four requests not to sit near the kitchen. After locating the perfect table with the limited choices they already had, they thank me, as if I performed a miracle for them. They clarify to me they don’t want to smell like tacos at the wedding. That would explain their suits and dresses.  Though I don’t believe 30 minutes of sitting at our restaurant will alter a person’s scent, I chuckle and tell them no problem.

Back at the front of restaurant, hungry people continue to trail in. A few familiar faces are among them; a few couples who’re regulars. A woman enters with her two elder parents. I look at the clock which reads 5:02. They’re right on time for their usual get-together. Seemingly annoyed they have to wait for a table, the older mother confirms my theory, reminding me that the three of them eat here every Friday, as if that entitles them to any sort of special treatment. To her surprise, I smile and remind her she is still a customer, equal as any other, and they still have to wait.

Employees are buzzing like bees, delivering meals and refilling drinks. Bussers hastily clean tables, allowing more people to come and go, getting their fix of deliciously greased tortilla chips and enchiladas. Another familiar face in the crowd was E-cig, the skinny man from a few weeks ago. He sat with four other friends, but I did not recognize any of the others from the last time he was here. Once again, he holds on to his tube of vapor like it’s his job, occasionally taking puffs from it. He is with an entirely new crowd, yet they are equally as rowdy as the ones he was with before. Though with the amount of people in the restaurant, it’s barely noticeable.

The next table over, a young couple takes their seats with their three children. Two boys with spiky gelled hair, and a little girl with pig tails embellished with blue bows. Unlike the trio of regulars, this family was patient to be seated. (I suppose with three children under the age of 10, you learn to have patience.)

As the night approaches, the temperature lowers outside, but it remains hot inside the building. There are still dozens of people eating, and the crowds don't seem to let up. Employees continue their hustle, in attempts to both be prompt with their customers, but also get them in and out in a timely manner. Time is of the essence with so many people here. After their usual green enchiladas and iced tea, the woman and her parents leave their table, exiting the restaurant without a smile or a ‘thank you’. Maybe next Friday, I’ll be sure to save a table for them. At the same time, E-cig walks out of the restaurant, possibly for a smoke break. It’s been so busy, I almost forgot he was still there.

As well as E-cig, the family of five still eats. The patient parents are endeavoring to get one boy to eat his quesadilla. He cries, and they threaten no dessert if he does not comply. One tactic that always seems to show results. The other boy slumps in his seat, showing no interest in his meal as well. The daughter in pig tails picks at her beans and rice. I laugh, thinking how much work children must be. I am thankful. These poor parents have a constant circus with three young children, where I can escape the circus of this restaurant after my shift.