The Restaurant

I've been working at a restaurant, a perfectly fargone joint, for the past month now. It's a Chinese place that I don't particularly recommend, so there's no need to mention it's Taoist-inspired name. Today I was amused by a guy named Ryan who appears to wash dishes and do deliveries. He showed up at noon or so and just wandered around in back, though, with these red buggy eyes and a mischevious grin. Throughout the afternoon, as I stepped through the door to bus my dishes, he seemed to always be there, doing pretty much nothing. At one point he asked me, with a butcher knife in hand, "Do you wanna play hopscotch?"
...I considered the question carefully before giving my answer...
"Great," he replied, "I'll go find some chalk."

My fellow server, Annie, and our hostess, Amber, also entertained me. Annie is a 20 year-old aspiring biologist who is constantly asking me questions about NYC and drinks cases of Icehouse with her boyfriend in her sparetime, and Amber is excited to leave Fargo and do some cranberry picking in California this summer. After we had closed down the buffet, I found the two of them mixing whiskey cokes and they graciously allowed me to pour my own. It was a good day for an afternoon cocktail hour.