Page 11 of A Breeze Over Rosewood Beach
“Great choice.” She grinned. “I would have thought you were the type of guy to order the turkey sandwich on whole wheat bread without the gravy.”
Oscar frowned, irritated by what he saw as her rude comment. She didn’t seem to notice his displeasure, however, and disappeared a moment later.
Turkey sandwich? On whole wheat bread? What was wrong with that? He realized it sounded somewhat boring. Had she been implying that he looked like a boring person? He wasn’t boring. He’d seen more things and done more things with his life than that silly teenager would ever do, stuck in a silly little town like Rosewood Beach.
A moment later he thought better of his irritation. Her tone had been friendly, and she’d been otherwise very polite. Maybe with all of his frowning, he was giving the impression of a plain turkey sandwich kind of a man.
He looked around the café curiously. He still couldn’t believe how small it was. It was decorated in bright colors, and there was an unmistakable nautical theme. He didn’t see any more images of that smiling waffle, and he felt glad of that.
He had to admit to himself that the food smelled wonderful. It didn’t smell like fake, cheaply made diner food. But it was possible that he only thought that because he was so hungry.
What have I gotten myself into?he thought.Prices may be cheaper here, but it’s in the middle of nowhere. Aren’t I going to suffocate in a town this small after a while?
Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed someone approaching him. It was an older woman with light brown hair. He hardly noticed her hair, however, because she was wearing a sparkling yellow headband with a flower on it, and bubble gum pink lipstick. He found himself staring at her. She had a very pleasant face, and she was smiling right at him, but he couldn’t wrap his head around a woman her age wearing lipstick and hair pieces that in his mind belonged to the world of twelve-year-olds. He ended up gawking at her like a fish out of water, his mouth hanging open slightly.
“Good afternoon,” she sang out cheerfully, stepping right up to his table.
Oh, so she was coming to speak with him. Why? Were people in that town really so friendly? It wasn’t possible that she worked there, was it? Dressed like that?
“How are you doing today?” she continued.
He noticed that she was wearing a name tag that said “Sally.” So she did work there. He could hardly believe it. He had never seen anyone working in a restaurant dressed like that before. Didn’t this place have any kind of a dress code?
“I’m doing fine,” he said, his tone close to a grunt. He would have preferred to be left alone instead of having to play twenty questions with someone who was clearly eager to talk with him. He was worried she might ask him more about his life and he definitely did not want to talk about it.
“Glad to hear that.” Her smile was so genuine he found it suspicious. What was she really after, here? People weren’t actually that friendly, he didn’t care how cutesy the place was. “My name is Sally.”
“Oscar.” What was the point of all this? Did this place think that bothering customers while they waited for their food was part of a good business model? Because in his opinion, it definitely wasn’t.
“Well, Oscar, it’s great to meet you. Unfortunately, I’ve got to be the bearer of bad news. We’re all out of tater tots today.”
So that explained the friendliness. She was trying to sugar-coat a problem.
“Luckily, I’ve got another great option for you,” she said before he’d gotten a chance to respond. “We’ve got some organic sweet potato fries that are new on the menu. They’re absolutely amazing. We can swap those in for no extra charge. How does that sound?”
“If you tried to charge me extra under the circumstances, let me assure you I would get up and leave without paying my bill,” Oscar barked.
“And I would completely understand that,” Sally said breezily, unfazed by his rudeness. “Which is why you won’t be charged extra. I can even throw in a discount. It is our bad, since we ran out of tater tots. Had a lot of hungry kiddos this morning.”
Oscar rolled his eyes. He didn’t like the implication that he had ordered children’s food. “I would expect a small place like this to run out of things. I should have seen this coming.”
“You should look on the bright side,” she said cheerfully, still smiling and not irritated in the slightest. “This way you get to enjoy something new and delicious.”
“Sweet potatoes aren’t for everyone,” Oscar said, even though he did actually like sweet potatoes very much. “You can’t expect people to be happy with something they didn’t order. Food choice is the whole point of restaurants.”
“Funny, I thought it was getting to eat food.” She laughed.
“You need to let the owner of his place know that they need to rethink their ordering strategies. Running out of food is very unprofessional.”
Sally grinned. “I will certainly take that into account.”
“You really should tell them,” he said, mistaking her cheerful attitude for sass.
“The owner already knows,” she said. “I’m the owner. I’ll get you a side of sweet potato fries. You’ll love them.”
She winked and walked away, leaving him speechless. He watched her walk away, feeling a mixture of confusion, embarrassment, and fascination. She was the owner? No wonder there was no dress code.
He wouldn’t have expected her style of running her business to work out as well as it clearly had. The customers surrounding him all seemed perfectly happy, and the little café was clean and clearly well-maintained. Despite Sally’s informal ways, her business seemed to be thriving.
