Waitress Blues

The last day of summer.
That afternoon, Rose was still recovering from her first day of waitressing. Apparently, she had been dished a table of excessively unsatisfied customers.
“They were so grumpy!” she said. “They wanted, like, ten different vegetables taken off of their sandwiches and dressings on the side that we didn’t even have. Then the chefs had to make them special bread that we didn’t have either. And all they did was complain about how long it took for the food to come, and then rolled their eyes when I explained that we were short-staffed in the kitchen that day. But then it got a little slow because everyone was at the balloon race…”
But Rose helped relieve some of her stress by sending Joe antiquated insults from her Shakespearean insult widget over IM. Her favorite of the day included:
“You’re a greasy rump-fed pigeon egg!”
Later, OLeif and Joe came into the kitchen where Collette was busy at the counter.
“So, Collette,” Joe was saying, “OLeif and I decided to buy an octopus.”
“It’s an investment,” OLeif said, laughing.
“Yeah,” said Joe. “We’re going to ink it. So, see, we’ll ink it and it’ll be Joe’s and OLeif’s Inkable Octi the Inkapus!”
The neighbors across the street had been there for a long time. Over 23 years at least. And that afternoon, they saw
Mrs. Crumbpecker come out the door with a “for sale” sign.
They were moving to Denver to be with their daughter who was an optometrist. It was somewhat sad seeing them prepare to leave. Another change in a place that had changed so little in a quarter of a decade.
Later in the afternoon, Dad, Joe, and Francis left for the store.
“I hate to have them do this on a Sunday,” Mom said, “but those boys have to get suit coats for the wedding.”
Francis was a little grumpy at the idea of getting measured.
“It just want to ride in my go-cart,” he said, shaking his head.
Back at the house, while Puck was waiting for dinner, he found a box of New Mexican incense and tried to eat one of the cones.
He thought this made him very clever, indeed.