deathpixie | NanoWriMo 2009

"...so, that's where everything is. Come on out to the floor, I'll show you the table set up."

Sean followed Carmen out into the main body of the restaurant, mind awhirl with all the details he was having to absorb. First day at a new waiting job, whee. Still, he'd been working restaurants long enough that he was reasonably sure he could walk into any place in the city and make his way.

"Oh, and table 15? Never seat a couple there. Seriously. Just, don't."

Sean blinked, focussing on what Carmen was saying. "Wait, what? Why not?"

Carmen blushed. It was rather fetching on her features. "It's kind of... cursed."

He laughed out loud at that. "Cursed? Are you kidding me?"

The blush deepened, matching the lipstick she wore. "I know it sounds silly, but it's true. Every couple we seat there... they have a horrible fight and break up. For good."

"Coincidence," Sean protested. "You're exaggerating it. It can't be every couple."

"I swear," Carmen retorted earnestly. "I didn't believe it myself when I started here, but I swear, it's true. I've seen it myself. We had a husband and wife in here one night, on their fiftieth anniversary. We were full up, so we had to seat them at 15. They barely made it through the appetisers before they'd split."

"That doesn't mean anything. After fifty years, I'd probably be set for divorce as well," Sean joked. He had to admit, however, this meant things were far more interesting than his last job.

"Two years ago, we had a guy propose to his girlfriend. Ten minutes later, she dumped boiling hot soup in his lap."

"But..."

"Just trust me on this one, okay?"

Sean shrugged. "Sure. Table 15. No couples."

***

Sean winced as the man's voice got louder. "You stupid fucking bitch! I ought to..." There was a woman's half-strangled scream, as if she was trying to keep quiet, but the walls of the apartments were so thin, Sean could hear her sobbing. He contemplated banging on the wall again, but that tended to just piss the guy off even more. If only there was a way to get him to leave... Police were no good - he just came back the next day, as angry as ever and blaming her.

There was a thump on the wall and a high-pitched shriek, suddenly cut off. Sean got up, lips set in a tight line, and left for the pub.

It was at least quieter than home.

***

"Yeah, we've got this voucher thing? Says we get a free meal for two."

Sean had only seen his neighbour a few times in passing. In person, he was a fairly ordinary looking man, but you could see the simmering anger in the lines of his shoulders, the clench of his jaw. His wife was a sad, pathetic mouse of a woman, eyes cast down and every movement screaming 'please don't hurt me'. After the other night, her arm was in a sling - it had been watching her take out the garbage one-handed, struggling with the heavy lid of the skip, that had been the final straw for Sean. He watched from the bar as Carmen nodded and smiled:

"Certainly, sir. If you'd just like to follow me. We have the perfect table for you."

Inspired by this comic