Slow Night

I am sitting in the back of the restaurant tonight. The hostess was nice but she seemed like she was holding back an emotion of exhaustion. She seated me in the back near two other tables. Only one was filled. She is a Hispanic hostess. She has long black hair and is wearing the store uniform.

The table next to me has a large woman in her mid-twenties. She has dirty blonde hair put up into a hat. She looks as if she may be waiting for someone but she has already ordered her food. She sits eating her enchilada plate with one hand. But in the other she holds her iPhone and is scrolling through pages of something. She is quiet but it seems as though everyone in the building is quiet.

The host seats a small family in the other table adjacent to me. It is a husband and wife with two small children. The couple looks young, maybe they are in their late twenties. The husband has tattoos on both arms and a cowboy hat on top. He is muscularly built. The wife is a small dark haired woman. She sits with her two pre k, aged kids on the opposite side of the booth. The kids are begging to see the father’s phone so he finally gives in to the kids.

The lone woman is asking for the check but is still on her phone while she is talking to the waiter. I’m beginning to think that woman and their phones may be a reoccurring theme.

The hostess has gone and the night begins to dwindle.

Most of the restaurants I’ve been to have had similar atmospheres. Music and kitchen noise. A happy enough staff. The food is typically Mexican based. The people that go are usually the same. Mostly families or small groups of people.