Hungry

Personal Yummy #91

The overwhelming smell of fries, burgers, pasta, wings, steak, and ribs taunts me, and my stomach growls—earnestly—hoping tonight will be like some other nights, when Tommy or Mary Ellen pushes a dish toward me, saying, “You want this Reuben? The customer decided he didn’t want it after I had already started making it” or “I misread the slip and put the wrong kind of sauce on this pasta. You want to take care of it for me?”

In these situations, I am always so grateful. I stand at the baker’s table, just outside of the kitchen, trying to be as much out of everyone’s way as I can, feeling some energy come back to me as I devour the hot, juicy food.

Otherwise, after having danced all day without the time to eat before arriving at work, I’m forced to run around on an almost empty stomach until the dinner hours are over and it’s time for my break, carrying plate upon plate of delicious, steaming food on a tray in front of me, which is the perfect spot for inhaling all of the tempting aromas.

Mistakes?

Well, thank God for them, that’s all I can say.

******

The above excerpt is from my coming-of-age novel—The Grill on Murray Avenue: A Story of Innocence—about the inhabitants of an unassuming bar-and-grill in Squirrel Hill, a vibrant neighborhood in the east end of Pittsburgh. The story is told by Jenna, a young waitress who dreams of becoming a professional dancer.

Available where books are sold…