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“The booze counters the coffee,” Rumi said jokingly, saluting me with his glass.
“What are you guys up to tonight?” I asked, glancing over my shoulder to make sure no one was waiting to be seated.
“Pancake house and then Rumi’s,” Olive said, taking a sip of her coffee. “Damn. I work making fancy drinks and I swear to God nothing compares to the plain drip coffee you guys have here.”
“We’re helpin’ him finish up the laundry room,” Brody said as he leaned back in his seat. “So he can finally start washin’ his clothes.”
“I wash my clothes,” Rumi argued, throwing a sugar packet at Brody. “I use the Laundromat.”
“You have your mama do it,” Olive said accusingly, pointing her finger at him. “Ya liar.”
“I do not!”
“Bullshit.”
“I go to the Laundromat! Ask the little old ladies that spend all day there. They’ll tell you.”
“Which old ladies are those?”
“The ones who pinch my ass if I get within reach,” Rumi said dryly. “Why you think I go to Mom’s sometimes? They leave bruises, Olive Oil. Bruises. On my ass.”
“Poor baby.”
“Shit,” I said, cutting into their little tiff. “I need to go seat these people. I’ll stop by later, yeah?”
“Have fun,” Brody said, waving me off. He looked at Rumi as I walked away. “You even have money to buy a washer and dryer for your place?”
I didn’t have time to go chat again until the group was almost done eating. The dinner rush was no joke and the place was packed as I walked over to their table again.
“How was everything?” I asked, coming to a stop at the edge of their booth.
“Terrible.”
“Disgusting.”
“Pretty sure there was hair in mine.”
I glanced at the next booth to find the customers staring at us in horror.
“They’re joking,” I said quickly. “They’re friends and they’re giving me crap.”
“It was fuckin’ delicious,” Rumi said, turning to look at them. “We’re just fuckin’ with her.”
The older man laughed and his wife smiled.
“Could you please stop with the swearing,” I murmured, glaring at him. “Jesus.”
“I am who I am,” Rumi replied, grinning unrepentantly as he spread his arms out across the booth.
“Oh, look,” I said dryly. “Your waitress is here with your check. Leave an enormous tip.”
I walked away to the sound of their laughter, and a few minutes later, they were up at my station saying goodbye.
“We need to come when it’s not so crowded,” Olive said, giving me another hug. “So you have some time to hang.”
“Iamworking, you know,” I reminded her ruefully.
“We’re just glad we got to see ya,” Brody said with a smile.
