04/04/2011 – Red 58

She was a complete spaz. She seemed to get nervous about everything. There were maybe eight people in the whole restaurant including the six of us, but even that made her run around in panic like a headless chicken. Literally run around – I would hear the scurrying clip-clop of her high heels behind my back every couple of minutes, running into the back room and darting back to the bar counter, running into the back room and darting back to the bar counter, running into the back room… "Not right now!" – she would shriek into her telephone from time to time. "I cannot take it all right now!" – she would suddenly shrill at the bar tender who looked a bit put off but, smartly, offered no response to that lunge. How could she ever think waitressing was for her? I see a 100% chance of a heart-attack in her near future. Probably provoked by forgetting to bring a teaspoon for somebody's coffee.

In the middle of the evening she came up to our table and asked in a voice that betrayed impending tears, "Would you like anything else?"

• "What's on the house today?" – I think Dima surprised even himself with this question.
  
• "OH… OH… OH… LETMESEEWHATICANDO. ONEMOMENTPLEASE!!!" – and she clip-clopped somewhere, leaving behind the trail of her horrified anxiety.
  
• "Dima! Awkward!" – Melanie was ready to fall through the ground.
  

I liked it. You can always rely on him acting "outside the box" and it's always fun, even if – granted – sometimes a bit embarrassing.

While each of us pondered how they felt about this unexpected exchange, the waitress flew back in, almost tripping over her own foot as she was trying to brake before slamming into our table. With a triumphant smile, she placed shot glasses in front of all of us.

• "LEMONDROP!" – she announced with an attitude you may expect from a circus magician after he makes an elephant vanish right before your eyes.
  
• "Thank you! Thank you so much! This was so nice of you! We really appreciate," – we all spoke at once. She was pleased. But still nervous.
  
• "Yes, yes, thank you," – Dima said very much business-like. He just couldn't leave it at that. Another quality of his, push your luck envelope until it tears apart in irretrievable pieces. – "Luckily, we have something to celebrate. It's Masha's birthday," – he waived at me.
  
• "AH!" – she exclaimed in unadulterated horror.
  
• "AH!" – and off she went.
  

Melanie tried to pick herself up from sinking deeper into the ground and concentrated on strangling Dima with her look. It didn't work, because in this mode he is completely invincible.

We almost forgot about the incident, when she reappeared giddily shouting to get our attention long before she could reach our table.

• "I think I have an idea! Have you ever tried our Red 58 coffee? No? Oh, but it's wonderful, simply wonderful! It has Baileys, Cointreau, whiskey, rum and vodka and is topped with whipped cream and cinnamon!!! Delicious! I'm going to make it for you for your birthday! For free! Will this be good? Please tell me it'll be good!"
  
• "And a cake, if possible," – inserted Dima…
  

Half an hour later, after finishing the cake and letting Dima drink my coffee – because, who am I kidding, I would never drink anything like this, I just didn't want to upset the drama queen who was waiting on us – we were still laughing in disbelief at the fact that apparently she had to run out to a nearby grocery to get whipped cream.

The lengths people would go for… for what, really? Just for being liked?