I Am the Messenger - Page 88

We walk to a crappy cafe at the bottom of Main Street. They serve eggs and salami and some sort of flat-looking bread. The waitress is a big woman with a wide mouth and a hankie in her hand. For some reason, to me, she looks like a Margaret.

"Whata you two bores want?"

We're shocked.

"Bores?" asks Marv.

She gives us an I-don't-have-time-for-this kind of look. She's bored shitless. "Of course. You both bores, ain't you?" It's then I realize she's saying boys.

"Hey," I say to Marv. "Boys."

"What?"

"Boys."

Marv peruses the menu.

Margaret clears her throat.

Not wanting to annoy her further, I order fast. "I'll have a banana milk shake if that's okay."

She frowns. "We're out of milk."

"Out of milk? How in the hell can a cafe run out of milk?"

"Look, I don't buy the milk. I don't have anything to do with the milk. I only know we don't have any. Why don't you order something to eat?" She loves her job, this lady. I can sense it.

"Have you got bread?" I ask.

"Now don't get smart, bore."

I scout the rest of the cafe, checking out what everyone else is eating. "I'll have what that bloke over there's having." All three of us look over.

"You sure?" Marv warns. "That looks pretty borderline, Ed."

"Well they've at least got it, haven't they?"

And now Margaret's really unhappy. She says, "Now listen." She scratches her scalp with her pen. I'm almost waiting for her to clean her ears out with it. "If this place isn't good enough for you bores, you can bloody well piss off and find somewhere else to eat." She's very testy, to say the least.

"All right." I hold my hand up, almost backing

away. "Give me what that guy's got and just a banana, okay?"

"Good thinking," Marv approves. "Potassium for the game."

Potassium?

I don't think that's really going to help.

"And you?" Margaret's transferred her attention now to Marv.

He shifts in his seat. "How about that flat bread you've got with your finest selection of cheeses?" He had to do it. Marv can't resist being a smart arse to a person like this. It's in his nature.

But Margaret's good. She puts up with complete shitheads like us all the time. "The only cheese around here is you," she responds, and I must say, we both laugh and give her some encouragement. She chooses not to notice. "Anything else for you bores?"

"No, thanks."

"Right. That's twenty-two fifty."

Tags: Markus Zusak
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