Phoebe and I continued to take care of our customers while
belting out the tunes that were wafting in from The Crabby Tuna next door. The
Palace closed at 10:00 p.m. on the weekends, and we had about a half-hour to
go. Clean up after that was a breeze, since
Phoebe’s specialty is wiping down anything that moves during the quiet periods
in between customers. For the most part, the evening ran smoothly with just one
mishap that occurred when a young boy decided that the vanilla cone his mother
ordered for him wasn't as much fun to eat as the chocolate one his brother had
and proceeded to throw it at his grandmother who tried to talk him down from
his tirade. It ended up in her face, on her shirt, and on the lady sitting next
to them who had just had her hair done for a wedding she had to attend the next
afternoon. How did we know all this? She
screamed it at the top of her lungs at the young boy’s parents who seemed to
want to disappear under the bench before anyone recognized them. After a brief visit from Cranberry Cove’s
finest men in blue, the matter was resolved and we were able to resume our
duties without further incident...
© 2015 Susan Kotch All Rights Reserved
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