The Unfailable Test
“I can’t believe I failed a pregnancy test. I mean, yea, you can get a positive and you can get a negative, but I just failed it.”
“How’s that even possible Hun?” My husband asked when dragged myself out of the bathroom.
“I didn’t even manage to pee on the freaking stick.” I held up my very dry pregnancy test to show him, before shoving it back in the box with the cap reattached. I walked over to the bed and fell backwards onto my back. “Seriously, who fails a pregnancy test? That’s idiotic.”
“That’s my baby.” Spencer said, falling on top of me and pinning me to the bed. He’s a good fifty pounds heavier than me, so I flinched slightly before the warm tingle of arousal shot all throughout my body.
“I’m glad you take pride in the fact that I failed an un-failable test.”
He kissed me on the forehead. “So take it again.”
“I can’t. You’re supposed to take it with first morning urine, will have to wait till tomorrow.”
“Well then, not much we can do about that.” And with that he started kissing me hard, bringing back the arousal that I felt a few minutes ago. I kissed him back, hard and full of longing for him to give me more. And he did. After a few minutes of some very intense kissing, his lips moved from my lips down to the left side of my neck, and my head fell back in pleasure. I opened my eyes to look down at my husband as he kissed my neck and slid his hands under my nightgown. The clock read 9:30.
“Crap!” I screamed, suddenly jolted from the ecstasy I felt when we made out.
“What?”
“It’s 9:30. I have to be at work at ten. I’ve got ten minutes to get ready and I have to be out the door.” Lucky for me, my work was within ten minutes of my house, not including stop lights. Which don’t count because they are only slow when you really need them to be fast. Unlucky for me, I was opening the store that day so if I was late, I’d only be hurting myself. If there was one thing that made waitressing hard it was trying to tend to guests while the beverage stations are still being assembled and the lemons still need cut. Not to mention the inevitable trey of silverware that mysteriously went missing before the night crew last night went home. So even though I was only being paid 3.10 an hour when not actually serving tables, it was in my best interest to show up on time. Applebee’s only allowed two servers a day to open the store during the week, four on weekends. And as it was Tuesday, that meant if the other person was late, then I’d be opening the place on my own for a while. And truthfully, no one else ever came in on time.
“Just when it was starting to get good.” Spencer complained to me, but he still rolled over to let me up.
“We’ll continue when I get home.”
“For about fifteen minutes. I told your dad I’d help him install Linux on his computer today.”
“Right. Ok, well we’ll have to continue that later.” I said, jumping off the bed and running to our closet to pick out my clean long-sleeved black polo shirt, my black work pants, and my apron. I threw my hair into a ponytail, which luckily looked more like I meant to have it look tasseled and not like I was making out with my husband and didn’t have time to comb it, and grabbed my carkeys before turning back to Zack to say good bye. “I should be home by two.”
“Good luck Love.” He said, kissing me as I ran out of the door and down the stairs of the apartments to my car.
When I got to Applebee’s I had just two minutes to spare, and as I feared, I was the only one there, minus my manager, Sage who was always at the store around 8 or 9am.
“Morning Sage.” I grinned as I strolled in through the back door, where all employees are supposed to enter but only me or the opening crew actually do.
“Good morning. Want to get the beverage stations ready for the day? Brandon is supposed to be helping you, so I’ll assign him to lemon cutting when he gets here.”
“Ok. Sounds good to me. How much silverware was left by the night crew?”
“Looks to be about 200. That means we’ve got 300 to start us out for the day, but I suggest that you get the silverware done as quickly as possible.”
“I’ll start it after I get the beverage stations opened up.”
“Thanks Marti.”
“No problem.” I said, heading to the back to get ice.
“Hey Marti, when you gonna bring that husband of yours in?”
Jesse, the only non-spanish-speaking cook on the cooking team asked me when I entered the kitchen. He was placing about 30 pounds of meat into a huge tub of hot water to defrost.
“When I can afford to eat here. Of course, I’d bring him in if you’d pay for the meal.”
“Ha. Like you don’t make ten times what I do.”
“Tips are not really all that dependable. Anyways, I gotta get the ice. You know where the bucket is?” The night shift, along with never doing all of their silverware, also had issues putting the ice bucket back on the ice bucket hook. The closing managers usually just care that the bucket isn’t sitting on the floor where spiders and bugs (which aren’t even supposed to be in the restaurant) don’t crawl into them, and it’s not in the floor facedown because the rim of the ice bucket can’t touch the ground. As long as it’s not in either of those positions, the managers don’t care. So the closing team is forever finding new and unique places to stash the ice bucket until the next day.
“Yea, it’s out in the supply room.”
“Thanks.” I headed out to the supply room, keeping a broom handle in the doorway so that I didn’t lock myself out. I found the ice bucket stored upside down next to the soda hook ups. I suppose there have been worse places to find it. I grab the ice bucket and go back inside to the igloo. Which is what we call our gigantic ice machine. It seriously holds enough ice to fill up a small family-sized pool. I was taking the last bucket of ice out to the last beverage station when Brandon final came in, about 20 minutes after I had signed in. If he’d waited ten more minutes the other servers would be here before him. Oh well, I hoped he’d get those lemons cut. You can get away without lemons on the weekend, when soda is the number one drink, but on weekday mornings when most of our customers visit on a daily to weekly basis, the main beverage of choice is an ice tea or water, with lemon please.
“Bout time you got here. Sage wants you to do lemons.”
“Yea, I know. Thanks.” He said, washing his hands and heading to the back. I went up to the hostess desk to check what my tables were. I had the far right hand corner, which is normally a death sentence, because 4 of five tables are two-seaters, but on weekday mornings it’s a blessing. Huge groups rarely ate out on weekday lunches. I then walked over to my tables and made sure they were all set up for the first customer. Then, I went and started folding silverware, which I actually found rather relaxing.
“So, do you know yet?” Crystal snapped me out of my silverware-folding daze as she took a place next to me and began folding some as well.
“Know?” I asked, though I had a feeling I knew what she was talking about. Crystal and I have been friends for years, and working together means there isn’t much in my life she doesn’t know about.
“Are you going to have a baby?” She squeal-whispered in my ear.
“I don’t know. I’m a week late now, but I failed the dumb pregnancy test.”
“So you aren’t pregnant then?”
“I told you I don’t know. I failed it.”
“Yea, you said that. But if it’s negative then you didn’t fail it, you just didn’t get a positive.”
“No, I failed it Crys, I mean, I didn’t even manage to pee on the stupid tiny stick.”
At this, Crystal fell into complete hysteria. “Wow. I guess you really did fail the test. That’s sad Marti.” She said when she re-gained control.
“Yea. Thanks.” I said, going back to my sidework feeling as dumb as the situation was. I mea, seriously, who fails a pregnancy test?”
“I mean, seriously, who fails a pregnancy test?” Crystal asked me, echoing my own thoughts.
“I already know I’m pathetic. This is just proof. What tables do you have today?”
“Center floor. I’ll make it though. I’m working a double today.”
“Brave woman.”
“Poor girl. I gotta pay off my cell phone this month or they will cut me off. And it’ll cost a heckalotta cash to get my phone reactivated.”
“You’d do better to be doing a double tomorrow.”
“Yea, I got that scheduled too.”
“Four shifts in a row?”
“Yup.”
“You are insane.”
“I told you, I’m broke. And after that I don’t have a shift till Friday.”
“Morning?”
“Evening.”
“You are insane.”
“Guess I should leave out the doubles I’m pulling Saturday and Sunday as well. Annie is on vacation so I’m covering most of her shifts.”
“You are either insane or brave to the point of foolishness. Hope it’s all worth it.”
“I have never worked a weekend shift without breaking 100. Plus, I got 60 bucks for taking as many shifts as I did. So I’ll be alright.”
“Sounds like suicide to me.” I said. “Be right back. I just got seated.” I laid down the silverware I had just folded and grabbed a few coasters on my way to the back right corner.
“Welcome to Applebee’s, my name is Marti and I’ll be your server today. How are we doing?” I said, grinning and reaching for my tablet of paper and a pen.
“Well hi there Marti, I’m Shane and this is my wife Carol and our son Jacob.” Shane replied. “And I suppose we’ll be your costumers today.”
I laughed. Every now and then I’d get similar replies, so it wasn’t the first time I’d heard it, but it was rare enough that it always took me by surprise. “Well then, what can I get for you Shane? Some onion rings or, if I may suggest a favorite of mine, the cheeseburger sliders are incredible.”
Shane gave his wife the look that I’ve seen many times, it meant that I had successfully sold him on an idea. “Cheeseburger sliders sound great.” He said, not even looking at the menu in front of him. “Jacob, want a root beer?” Shane asked, turning to his four-year-old son. Jacob nodded his head up and down as he continued coloring on the kiddie-menu. “He’ll have a kid root beer, and get me a Bud Select please. Carol?”
“I’ll take a sprite.”
I nodded and jotted down the drinks. “So that’s a Sprite for Carol, a small root beer for Jacob and a Bud Select for Shane, along with an order of cheeseburger sliders.”
“Sounds good to us.” Shane said.
“Can I see your license?” He was so obviously older than 21, but the rule was 39 and under get carded. He handed me his license and I saw that he was indeed over 21. Somewhere in his thirties it looked like, but math wasn’t my strong point. “Great, I’ll be right back with those drinks.” I said, walking away from the table to the “point of sale” machine, or more appropriately called the POS station. I keyed in the order on the screen and went to get the root beer and sprite before swinging by the bar and grabbing Shane’s Select.
I got a few more tables, one of the perks of opening since there’s less people on the floor first thing in the morning. Servers drift in anytime between 10:55 and 11:30 depending what their start time is. I took their orders, delivered the food out to Shane’s table and got both Carol and Jacob’s drinks refilled, and drifted back to the front counter to fold silverware until my tables’ food was up and ready to be delivered.
The day was actually pretty normal, but I barely made it through. By 1:30 Sage took the first group of servers off the floor, and allowed us to do our sidework and check out for the day. I had to restock the condiment areas at all the beverage stations, as well as behind the front counter where we are always supposed to keep a full supply. I did that work, then went to fold the silverware that had been assigned to me. Which could have been worse, but I still really wanted to sit down. Which wasn’t allowed unless there was no one in the restaurant. So although I was exhausted and my feet hurt, I sat there and folded one hundred pairs of silverware before I printed my check out receipt and counted up my money for the day. I had made 75 dollars. Which was really good for a weekday morning.
“Looks like you had a good day.” Sage said, looking at my check-out receipt.
“Yea. I worked pretty hard. Good day for tips though.”
“Looks like it. I’ll need 275 then you can go.”
I had already counted it out so I handed the cash over to her.
“Great. Have a good day Marti. Will see you tomorrow evening.”
“Night.” I said, putting my tips into my pocket and heading for the door. I stopped by the POS station where Crystal was keying in a new order. “See ya tomorrow night. I’m out.”
“Bye Marti.” She said, crossing over to the beverage station.
I dropped 70 bucks off at the bank, and without any messing around headed back home.
“How was work?” Spencer asked me when I walked into the door, out breath from climbing the stairs.
“Was fun. I got 75 bucks.”
“That’s pretty good.” He paused for a few minutes, studying me intently. “You feeling ok?”
“Tired.” I said on a sigh.
“Tired or exhausted?”
“Exhausted.” I said, walking straight back to the bedroom and collapsing on the bed. Lately, I’ve been flat out exhausted. Last Friday I actually called Crystal to take my morning shift because I physically could not get my butt out of bed. The only reason I was able to survive that day was that I hadn’t worked all weekend. I actually spent the majority of the weekend on self-imposed bed rest. Going back and forth between sleep and wake every hour or so. Spencer took care of me, making me eat and getting me things to keep me busy during my waking hours. Like an endless supply of books I had yet to read.
Spencer followed me into the bedroom and took my work shoes off for me. He proceeded to massage my feet, something he did at the end of all my shifts when I came home. It felt amazing. The first time I asked, we were still dating, and he felt almost offended that I had asked. I had worked a double and was basically to the point that behind the counter I would lift one leg for a few minutes, allowing that foot to rest, then switch to the other foot. We were watching a movie and I asked Spencer if he would please give me a foot massage because I felt like my feet were standing on the edges of about twenty knives. He was awkward about it, leaving my socks on and commenting that he didn’t know how to give foot massages and he’d rather not. Still, he did it, and although he was right about not knowing how to give foot massages, it felt like heaven to me at the moment. Now though, he could open his own foot massaging business if I wanted to let him touch a bunch of other women’s feet.
When he knew I was throughly foot massaged and my feet felt as light and non-crampy as cotton, he proceeded to massage my calves, working his way up to be with me. I almost fell asleep when he moved up to massaging my thighs and my butt. The butt message tickled me to alertness.
“I didn’t use that at all.”
“I know. But a massage feels good there none the less, doesn’t it?”
“Mmhmm.” Was my answer, as I let his kneading hands coax me back to a restful state.
Spencer continued up my body, giving my lower back a very much needed message, and then my middle back. When he got to my upper back he concentrated on a single side at a time. Working his magical fingers around each shoulder blade, toward my spine, then back to my shoulder until my shoulders felt absolutely numb. Then he massaged my arms all the way down to my fingertips, giving each finger it’s own mini-massage. Before laying down next to me he massaged the back of my neck, which might have felt better than anything else.
When Spencer did lay down next to me, he lay on his side and rolled me over to lean against him, encircling his arms around me in a protective and comforting position. I lay my head against his chest and closed my eyes. “If I fall asleep, will you fix me something meaty when I wake up?”
“What do you want?”
“Something with beef.” I said, my voice sounding very dreamy and reminding me of a child’s voice.
“Macaroni and Cheese with hamburger sound good?”
“No… can you make lasagna? With lots of meet and cottage cheese and cheese?”
“I won’t be able to lay here with you.”
“Let me fall asleep, then go and cook it for me. Wake me when it’s done.”
“Ok, Love. Rest for now.” He said, kissing my forehead and pushing my hair out of my face and behind my head. I nuzzled up closer to his chest and fell asleep almost immediately.
And that's all for today. Let me know what you think and if you know of a good title.
Also, just have to brag cause of NANOWRIMO I have a free trial of Srivener and it's AMAZING!
Sounds good Shayna. I made it though day 1.
ReplyDeletePretty good, but there is a minor error in it. In the 2nd or 3rd paragraph you called Spencer Zach.
ReplyDeleteLOL. thanks. that was his original name. oh the joy of first drafts :-P
ReplyDelete