Gay Boyfriend [[abby]]

[Siren Lucas Torres]

Charlotte Charis Burns

May I take your order? May I take your order? May I take your damn order?
I hated working at Susan's Diner. It was a bunch of reciting lines and listening to critics bash food that you didn't even make. I was a people person, but I didn't like to serve. My fingernails tapped out my "do-I-look-like-I-care?" tune as I put on a fake smile and beamed at the family in front of me. "Hello sir, is there something I can do for you?" A bulky man who definately did not need to be eating out smiled through his bushy mustache at me and nodded towards his chubby children. They were both yanking each other's hair and I instantly felt horrible that they were being raised like this. They looked like too fat rats with rabies. "Yes, I was wonderin' if you had booster seats for the kiddos," the man said in a suprisingly high-pitched voice. I raised an eyebrow but motioned politely to a table by the entrance. "Of course sir, right over there you should find what you need. Thank you for coming to Susan's Diner today!" Gag. Choke. Facepalm.

[nickyraeden]

Nicky Peyton Raeden

I stood in line, or rather lounged against the wall, there isn't much else to do when waiting to uncover your food preference to an assorted teenager with an attitude problem. I was standing behind a rather obese man (or woman, judging by the cup size), and by experience I have learned that being to the rear of the metabolically challenged is neither an appealing nor safe place to be.

I was dressed down today (it was a weekend, who not?), and yet when a small lard-like being starts playing with the buttons of your bright purple tux shirt, you can't help the slight traces of irritation that follow. I tried to turn my head away, my full lips flattening into an indifferent frown, and yet there is a point when a man's patience breaks. "You do realize that it is considered socially unacceptable by the general public to pull on one's buttons without their permission?" The just stared with their big trolly eyes as if I had just busted out in some ancient latin. Maybe I should.

"You're dressed all weirdddd." The male one snickered, as if holding out the last letter made the insult actually hurt. He motioned at my top. "Purple's for girlllllsss. You're dressed like a girl!" "And what's with the hat? You aren't Willy Wonka!" The girl continued. "No, but he asked me to get his Oompa Loompas for him. The trucks out back." I muttered, turning away and adjusting my lime green ascot to signal the end of the conversation. The world obviously needs less procreation, and yet people ask me why I'm gay.

Once the mammoth family finished ordering, I took their place as the head of the line and made a silent promise to make things quick for the less fortunate people farther back. "I would appreciate the preparation of a turkey hoagie with mustard and cheese, no lettuce, no tomatoes, no peppers, no olives. Also know as nothing else, if you're of a shortening mind."[/blockquote]