I’ve been a waitress for a few years now, and I’ve seen more than my fair share of crazy things over that time. I don’t think anything will ever compare to what happened yesterday, which is consequently what has me confined to a hospital bed for the time being. I still can’t speak very well just yet, but fortunately, typing isn’t an issue. Either way, I need to talk about this, even if it is just relayed through my phone.
I’m no stranger to customers with an attitude, so I could tell right off the bat that this particular woman was going to be a handful as soon as she walked through the door. She didn’t necessarily stand out much differently from the rest of the afternoon crowd in her baggy, flowery shirt, untucked from her neatly pressed dress pants, down to black pumps.
She was close to six feet with her high heels, likely dyed, straight dark brown hair down to her shoulders, with bangs that lay flat across her brow. It was the expression on her face that told me she was already prepared to neither be pleased with the service nor her forthcoming meal.
The way her nose slightly creased upwards as though she picked up the scent of something foul, as well as her grimacing mouth, lined with poorly applied, bright red lipstick didn’t help matters either. If I were to guess, I’d estimate she was in her late forties or early fifties, but even her mascara looked like a kid applied it for her.
When she took a seat at a four-person booth beside the window facing out towards the interstate, I let out a sigh in preparation. Not only was she in my assigned section of the roadside diner, but there were plenty of two-person tables and booths available at the time. Why she felt the need to take up one of the few remaining family-sized tables, I couldn’t say, but things like this always irritated me, especially with it being the busier, lunchtime hours.
With the diner being right off the exit, surrounded by various other eateries and gas stations, we had frequent but sporadic crowds. The early afternoon was generally our most likely time to get slammed, and this day was no different. It’s a fairly spacious place, but it does have its limitations, so one person taking it upon themselves to claim one of the bigger booths had a tendency to piss me off a bit.
Not only would the bigger groups be more likely to leave a larger tip; something that anyone in such professions depends on, but they were more profitable to the diner itself. Of course, I wasn’t about to tell this lady she had to move. Something about her whole demeanor was standoffish, and I was not in any sort of mood to argue with a customer that day, or any other day, to be honest.
When she took her seat, she was already cutting her eyes around the place, glaring down her nose at the other customers, while seemingly searching for her server as well. I gave an exhausted look to Ted, my best friend at the job, and out of it for that matter, shaking my head and rolling my eyes.
“Want me to take this one?” he asked, though I could hear the lack of enthusiasm in his offer of noble sacrifice.
“Nah, I got it,” I replied with a sigh and a very fake smile.
I was tempted to take him up on it, but I couldn’t throw a friend to the wolves, just to save my own ass.
“Hi there,” I said in my best imitation cheery voice, handing her a menu, “I’m Shelly, and I’ll be your…”
“Do you serve hot tea here?” she interrupted in a nasal and stern voice.
“We do indeed, would you…”
“I’ll start with that. Thank you,” she cut in again, not looking up from the menu.
I just nodded and headed back toward the kitchen, already feeling tense and a little flushed. Her voice reminded me of my old biology teacher, who was a bitter, old, ratty-haired bitch, who came off like she couldn’t stand any of her students.
I always wondered why she chose to work in a field that required being around teenagers she clearly didn’t have the patience for. Similarly, I was curious as to why this particular woman chose to come to a little roadside diner that she appeared to consider beneath her stature. That’s how she came off to me anyway.
After preparing her cup of tea in the same manner we usually make it; hot water, lemon slice on the rim of the cup, with the tea bag off to the side, I gingerly carried it to the table.
“What is this!?” she barked, prodding her finger against the lemon wedge, spilling the hot water across her finger in the process.
“Lemon, ma’am. It’s how we usually prepare it, but I’d be happy…”
“How hard is it to simply pour some hot water, hmm?”
She finally looked up at me while wiping her hand off with a napkin. Her eyes were wide and bloodshot, with wrinkled bags hanging beneath them. Everything about her expression made me feel as though she was in complete disgust at the time; not exclusively at the situation, but at me as well.
“I apologize, ma’am. I’ll bring you a fresh cup.”
I reached for the mug while she looked at my hand with her painted-on eyebrows raised.
“You didn’t answer my question! How hard is it!?”
I bit down, attempting to keep my cool with this infuriating hag.
“It’s not hard, ma’am. This is just how our regulars like it. I should’ve asked you how you liked it before I…”
“Yes, you should have! Now, this time, bring me a cup of hot water and a teabag; nothing more. No fruit, no sugar, just hot water in a damned cup! Can you handle that?”
“Yes ma’am. My apologies.”
I attempted to sound as polite as I could while clenching my jaw so tightly that I felt it pop on one side. When I picked up the cup, I almost spilled more hot water across my own trembling hand, but I headed back to the kitchen in a hurry.
“Oh my fucking god!” I sneered through gritted teeth when Ted came strolling up.
“Special kinda bitch, huh?”
I just nodded, rubbing my temples.
“If you need me to take over, just say the word.”
“I couldn’t do that to you, Teddy bear.”
Again, I was incredibly tempted, but it would likely piss me off, even more, to see her giving him a hard time. In a weird sort of way, I can handle someone being rude to me, more so than someone I care for. The last thing I needed was to lose my job over this wretched woman, and I would most definitely lose my cool with her if she bitched out Ted.
After pouring a fresh cup for the cranky witch, I gave Ted an exhausted smile and made my way back into the belly of the beast.
“I hope this is more to your liking, ma’am, and I apologize again for the…”
“I would like the ribeye steak, as rare as you can make it. Baked potato as a side, and the glass of iced water that should have been provided when I arrived,” she said, dipping the fresh tea bag, and handing me the menu while reverting to avoiding eye contact.
“Yes, ma’am,” I replied, keeping it short and sweet since she was unlikely to allow me to speak more than a word or two before cutting me off with another damn condescending demand.
I swear I can feel my blood boiling just recalling this part of the story! I do not understand why the hell anyone wants to be such a bitch to anyone who handles their food! Seriously! Do they not watch movies!? Do they not care about what some disgruntled and exhausted restaurant employees may smuggle into their meals!? It’s not unheard of for someone to end up with a little extra special sauce on the side, just saying.
I’m sorry, I got a little carried away there. I’m good now. Back to it.
Being an average, run-of-the-mill diner, just off the interstate, we didn’t exactly specialize in any particular dish. Our menu has a little bit of everything, but most of our customers aren’t looking for anything fancy. As you can imagine, it’s not exactly a classy steakhouse or anything, so nobody should expect that sort of quality.
I’d sampled all three of the steak options on our menu over the years, and they’re not bad, but they wouldn’t be my first choice. That being the case, I was fully prepared for the queen bitch at table five to have something to say about it when I carried it out. I can’t say I was prepared for what her actual concern was.
“What the hell is this now!?” she yelped, once more poking at what I brought her.
With every prod of her bony finger, juice practically squirted from the meat. The squelching sound combined with the light spatter of grease smacking against the table caused my stomach to churn as my face flushed again. I’m not a vegan or vegetarian or anything, but it was just all-around gross!
“The ribeye, ma’am. Just like…”
“I clearly recall asking for it to be rare!? Do you recall this? Were you listening? Did you…”
“You asked for as rare as we can make it, ma’am. Any rarer than that, and it would moo!”
“How dare you interrupt me! I’ve had just about enough of your attitude, young lady! I want to speak to your manager! Right now!”
“Yes, ma’am,” I said, spinning on my heels, back toward the kitchen again.
She was still saying something as I walked away from her, but I would be damned if I was about to take another second of her shit. Rachel; one of our friendlier, more laid-back managers, was already walking my way when I got to the back. She just gave me an understanding smile, laying a hand on my shoulder as she passed by me.
She’s a good one, Rachel. Always been a cool person to work for, and she knows all too well what it’s like to deal with difficult customers. Having been a waitress for a few years herself, she has her own share of horror stories. This wouldn’t be our first rodeo, but neither of us had ever dealt with a bronco that bucked this hard before.
I was still trembling all over when she walked back into the kitchen, letting out her own heavy sigh.
“Holy shit!” she said, tipping the undercooked meat with fresh poke marks into the trash can, “that bitch is a special case!”
“Right!?”
“She wants it raw, we’ll give it to her raw,” she gave a nod to Terry, one of the cooks, “toss it on there long enough for it to get warm, and leave it at that. Bitch wants salmonella, she can have it for all I care.”
“I love you,” I said with a laugh.
She just smiled, laying a hand on my shoulder again.
“You alright? Want me to take over?” she asked, looking genuinely concerned.
“Nah, I got it,” I said, reluctantly.
In all honesty, I almost took her up on her offer, but I didn’t want this horrendous woman to think she beat me. If I just cowered in the kitchen while leaving someone I respected to take the heat, she’d think she won. It sounds a bit silly, looking back, but serving this foul heifer felt like a trial I had to complete.
When I brought the incredibly undercooked meat back to her table, I tried to just lay the plate down and quickly turn around, but she wasn’t about to let me off that easily.
“Don’t you walk off!” she barked before I even made it a couple of feet from the booth.
I could already hear that squishing sound of innocent meat being attacked by a slender finger, causing my neck to twitch a little.
“Is this supposed to be some sort of joke!?”
“Ma’am, this is what you asked for. I can have it cooked up a little more if you…”
“Cooked more!? Are you serious!? What part of rare is so fucking hard for you people to understand!”
“Ma’am, it doesn’t get rarer than that!”
“This is practically burnt, young Miss,” she sneered, still prodding the slab of meat that looked as though it had just been freshly carved off of some unsuspecting cow.
“Burnt? Ma’am, I don’t think…”
“I want it bloody, you ignorant slut! Does this look bloody to you!?”
My face was practically burning as my blood pumped far more rapidly. I could feel the eyes of many of the other customers who had stopped eating to glare at the dramatic scene this mad she-bitch was making. She was spitting with her words as her voice grew louder and I wanted nothing more than to snatch up the disgusting slab of uncooked meat and smack it across her reddening face.
I just couldn’t wrap my mind around it. The fact that the already far too pink for human consumption steak was oozing sickeningly colored fluids with every poke, I couldn’t even imagine what she expected. Still, even though I knew she would likely never be satisfied, I once more reached for her food with my trembling hand, praying she would just give up and leave already.
“Do you have a modicum of understanding of how I would like this prepared now!?” she asked, as I wrapped my fingers around the plate.
I tried to reply, but I was so far beyond pissed off by that point, I couldn’t convince my brain to send the words to my mouth.
“Perhaps my question was a little too complex for your understanding?”
She looked up at me for the second time since she entered, but I would not return her gaze. I just continued to slide the unwanted dish away from her. I can’t help but wonder if I had attempted to show a little more completely undeserved respect to the mad bitch, if things would’ve gone differently. No sense in pondering over things I can’t change, I suppose; not now anyway.
As I finally lifted the plate and began to turn away from her, she quickly reached out and grabbed my wrist, spilling the dish and its contents to the floor. She moved so swiftly, I could barely rationalize it, but when she leaned forward and bit into my forearm, anything rational went out the window.
I screamed out in horror as she tore away a chunk of my flesh and muscle tissue, spitting it to the table.
“SEE!” she shouted in a frenzied wail.
I could barely believe what was happening. She just glared at me with those wide and maniacal, bloodshot eyes, and my blood still dripping from her lips.
“NOW THAT’S A BLOODY CHUNK OF STEAK, RIGHT THERE!”
I just glared down at the fluids gushing from my grizzled wound in so much disbelief, that I didn’t even notice her moving in for a second time. As she wrapped her slender hands around my head, pulling me closer, I heard the voices and shrieks of many of the other customers. When she chomped into my throat with her unbelievably sharp teeth, I felt my head grow dizzy from the shock and pain.
She pulled back, ripping away another strip of completely uncooked meat, before releasing me to join her discarded steak on the floor. While I lay there, spraying sticky blood across the broken shards of the plate that once held a steak that would surely make any average person sick to their stomach, I saw several of the diner’s patrons surrounding the insane woman.
While everything was beginning to grow foggy and out of focus, I saw them pull her away from me before she could take another bite. When Rachel and Ted came running up to where I lay, I felt one of them wrap a towel around my spewing neck before everything went dark.
When I came to, presumably only moments after blacking out, I saw that the woman was now lashing out at those who attempted to stop her. It may have been nothing more than the blood loss causing things to appear more surreal, but I could swear I saw her fingernails extend and sharpen before my eyes. The chipped blue nail polish only lined the very tips of what appeared to be about two inches of razor-sharp claws.
I watched on in pure horror when she reared back with her long and bony fingers before swiping them forwards, tearing across the midsection of an older man in a green polo shirt. There was another spray of crimson as she swatted a blonde woman across the arm, before she leaped straight forward, tackling a couple of guys who looked to be in some sort of sports team.
I watched on with my skin growing colder by the second, as she thrust her head down, pulling back quickly with another long strip of spewing flesh dangling from her mouth and slapping her across the face. When Ted attempted to get to his feet, seemingly intent on joining the efforts to halt the reign of terror caused by this mad bitch, I grabbed his arm as tightly as I could.
“D-don’t…” I begged him.
Not only was I terrified that I may lose every ounce of blood my body was capable of holding, but I knew he couldn’t stop her. Whether I survived this or not, I couldn’t stand the idea of anything happening to him.
“The police are on the way,” Rachel said as she knelt back down beside me.
Apparently, she placed the call as soon as she saw I was still alive. She would tell me sometime later, that she was almost paralyzed by the shock of seeing the woman attack me, leaving her ashamed she didn’t act faster in calling in the cops.
While I fought to hold onto consciousness; a battle that I was closer to losing by the second, I could barely make out the crazy hag anymore with all the people surrounding her. As more blood sprayed across the windows and spilled onto the floor, I could only hope that at least some of it belonged to her.
As soon as I saw the blue lights reflecting on the ceiling, I finally gave in to the overpowering exhaustion, closing my eyes and allowing the darkness to take me. At that moment, I had no doubt I was dying. In those brief seconds, before everything faded from view, my mind no longer felt connected to my body, as though it was drifting away to somewhere over the rainbow and far away from batshit crazy and carnivorous nasty old bitches.
When I awoke in the hospital, both Rachel and Ted were passed out on chairs on either side of the room I was in. I was sort of out of it, between the likely high dose of whatever wonderful medication they had me on, as well as that confusion of waking up in unfamiliar surroundings.
When my mind flashed back to the events that led me here, I instantly grabbed at my neck to find it wrapped and padded, while somewhat numb to the touch. My forearm is in a similar condition, though it has some sort of brace around it as well. I can’t move my fingers much on that hand, as the damage to my muscles and tendons will likely require a bit more work by the time everything is said and done. That’s what the doctor told me, anyway.
Like I said in the beginning, all of this just happened yesterday, and I’m still a bit out of it. According to the police, a good seven of our customers are currently located in this same hospital, and a couple of them are in worse shape than I am. Everyone is expected to survive, thank God, but some have a good bit more recovery to go through than others.
From what I was told, the crazy bitch somehow slipped away when the police arrived at the scene. Ted said it was unbelievable how quickly she moved, claiming that she shot out of there like a bat out of hell before the cops even got out of their cars. If nothing else, at least their arrival put an end to the madness of it all. It still terrifies me, though; the fact that she’s still out there, somewhere.
I know this all sounds hard to believe. To be honest, I can barely wrap my mind around it, and I was there! There are some truly disturbed people in the world, but I’ve never heard of anything like this before, aside from that bath salts thing some years back. Clearly, that doesn’t mean it can’t happen, all things considered.
Though I truly hope that the authorities will be able to track down that insane heifer, her being out there is strangely not my biggest concern at the moment. It could be nothing more than the effects of the drugs, combined with the degree of my injuries, so I may be overreacting a little. Whatever it is, I have the strangest urge for some red meat right now.
I’ve always preferred my steaks well done, but that doesn’t feel all that appetizing at the moment. I could use something juicy; maybe even a bit bloody. I wonder if they have a cafeteria here.