via lucia - the diner
nirya was sitting across from him in a minibooth at a diner. the lights were hospital exam-room bright and she could see every flaw in the room: the table was greasy from someone else's fries; her fork and knife had dried food on them from prior meals; her glass was chipped and stained; and owen, the chump sitting across from her who called himself a man, had a piece of spinach in his teeth. regardless, he still looked fine. heatlhy. sexy. maybe even reliable. she looked at him as he played with his napkin. was he someone she could keep around?
when the waitress blankly shoved their food on the table, nirya winced. her turkey looked old and limp and the gravy was powder-chunky as if not well-stirred. she thought about returning it to ask for something else, but when she looked at owen's dishevelled chicken cheesesteak, she decided to just stick with what she'd ordered. she watched owen shovel the food in his mouth and asked, "are we in a rush?"
"no," he responded, as a piece of chicken fell out of his mouth, "why?"
"no reason." she lied; she didn't want to seem picky about his eating habits, especially when hers were so far from perfect. feeling half drunk, she looked away from her plate at all the imperfections in the room. she could almost sense the room, it's light fixtures and ugly retro curtains, reaching out to her and attempting to speak. she stared at the salt and pepper shakers -- were they trying to say something? she shook her head and turned back to her food. after she ate, she would feel less drunk.
nirya wiped her silverware with a napkin, thinking there was probably no use in asking the waitress for another pair. she began to cut her turkey in small even pieces. after each cut, she would spread some mashed potatoes and chunky gravy on top and gently slide the bite into her mouth, taking her time to appreciate it. granted, this was not the type of food that one could truly enjoy, but she did her best. nirya was simple; she didn't have a very exciting life, but she tried, at least, to make it so it didn't hurt.
owen, on the other hand, was crude. he ate food off of the table and drank and ate at the same time, as if there were some unspoken time limit. in life, he never tried to feel anything and never had to worry about hurting. instead, he just hurt others. he was constantly starting fights with strangers; he always felt like he deserved special treatment; he never paid his bills on time. nirya put all this aside because she liked the way he spoke to her. she liked that even through his roughness, she could still sense that he wanted to make her happy, in whatever way he knew how. parts of her thought she could do better, but maybe she was just too lazy, too lacking in self-confidence to try.
he'd already finished his meal. she was barely half done. he called the waitress over and asked for a slice of pecan pie with a scoop of ice cream and some caramel topping. nirya could see the sky getting light outside. she hated the thought that life was starting all over again. soon, people would be out on the streets, walking to their jobs in their freshy ironed outfits with their just-combed hair. she wanted to love life, but people angered her. they were so plain, so redundant. maybe she was too.
owen stared at her as he ate his pie. he asked, "so what do you wana do after?"
"after what?" she responded.
"you know, after this?" it was obvious that he wanted to fuck and she couldn't blame him. they'd known each other for weeks and everytime they hung out, they kissed a few times, but stopped there. she felt like he might be losing interest, but maybe he was just patient. she wanted sex too.
"i'm not picky," she said. she couldn't figure out why she wanted to fuck him. was it because she wanted to feel wanted? or because she wanted to feel meaningless? he got up and went to the front register to pay the bill. in that late night/early morning haze, she could feel everything around her singing. all the lights, the tables, the ugly curtains, even the dirty silverware were singing, "he ain't worth it."
soon, the singing became all that she could hear.
he ain't worth it, he ain't worth it, he ain't worth it.
he came back to the booth and reached out for her hand. she held his hand and got out of the booth. as they walked out of the diner, she could hear street signs telling her owen wasn't worth it, but she went with him anyway.
when the waitress blankly shoved their food on the table, nirya winced. her turkey looked old and limp and the gravy was powder-chunky as if not well-stirred. she thought about returning it to ask for something else, but when she looked at owen's dishevelled chicken cheesesteak, she decided to just stick with what she'd ordered. she watched owen shovel the food in his mouth and asked, "are we in a rush?"
"no," he responded, as a piece of chicken fell out of his mouth, "why?"
"no reason." she lied; she didn't want to seem picky about his eating habits, especially when hers were so far from perfect. feeling half drunk, she looked away from her plate at all the imperfections in the room. she could almost sense the room, it's light fixtures and ugly retro curtains, reaching out to her and attempting to speak. she stared at the salt and pepper shakers -- were they trying to say something? she shook her head and turned back to her food. after she ate, she would feel less drunk.
nirya wiped her silverware with a napkin, thinking there was probably no use in asking the waitress for another pair. she began to cut her turkey in small even pieces. after each cut, she would spread some mashed potatoes and chunky gravy on top and gently slide the bite into her mouth, taking her time to appreciate it. granted, this was not the type of food that one could truly enjoy, but she did her best. nirya was simple; she didn't have a very exciting life, but she tried, at least, to make it so it didn't hurt.
owen, on the other hand, was crude. he ate food off of the table and drank and ate at the same time, as if there were some unspoken time limit. in life, he never tried to feel anything and never had to worry about hurting. instead, he just hurt others. he was constantly starting fights with strangers; he always felt like he deserved special treatment; he never paid his bills on time. nirya put all this aside because she liked the way he spoke to her. she liked that even through his roughness, she could still sense that he wanted to make her happy, in whatever way he knew how. parts of her thought she could do better, but maybe she was just too lazy, too lacking in self-confidence to try.
he'd already finished his meal. she was barely half done. he called the waitress over and asked for a slice of pecan pie with a scoop of ice cream and some caramel topping. nirya could see the sky getting light outside. she hated the thought that life was starting all over again. soon, people would be out on the streets, walking to their jobs in their freshy ironed outfits with their just-combed hair. she wanted to love life, but people angered her. they were so plain, so redundant. maybe she was too.
owen stared at her as he ate his pie. he asked, "so what do you wana do after?"
"after what?" she responded.
"you know, after this?" it was obvious that he wanted to fuck and she couldn't blame him. they'd known each other for weeks and everytime they hung out, they kissed a few times, but stopped there. she felt like he might be losing interest, but maybe he was just patient. she wanted sex too.
"i'm not picky," she said. she couldn't figure out why she wanted to fuck him. was it because she wanted to feel wanted? or because she wanted to feel meaningless? he got up and went to the front register to pay the bill. in that late night/early morning haze, she could feel everything around her singing. all the lights, the tables, the ugly curtains, even the dirty silverware were singing, "he ain't worth it."
soon, the singing became all that she could hear.
he ain't worth it, he ain't worth it, he ain't worth it.
he came back to the booth and reached out for her hand. she held his hand and got out of the booth. as they walked out of the diner, she could hear street signs telling her owen wasn't worth it, but she went with him anyway.
posted by Entertaining Lies at 5:45 PM
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