Oh yes, my favorite waitress who confused the hell out of me.
For months when I was young I’d stop by this cafe after work to wrap up for the day. I could only be in the office for so long and would finish up research while I ate dinner at my favorite spot.
I always had the same waitress who was adorable. She would always slip me an extra cup of coffee when I was billing and then bring me a glass of wine at the end of my day. We never talked much but she was a precious soul I started looking forward to seeing.
I’m going to be honest, I thought maybe she was nice to me because she tipped well.
One day she grabs my check, turns to leave, and then looks back at me. “Do you smoke?”
“Like cigarettes?” I ask.
“No…”
“Then yes.”
She looks horrified but asks if I want to smoke with her in the back of the restaurant. I accept.
*To pause, I learned a long time ago not to assume ANYTHING about someone’s identity. I generally wait for women to hit on me.*