The Egg Said Nothing Read Online Free Page B

the violence I had been experiencing, meant something. It was not only that my life was going somewhere; it was that something seemed to dictate its direction.

    Deciding to go along for the ride, I left my apartment. I walked down the street and caught a movie. It was an old one, some cheesy sci-fi flick about radioactive weasels. I had no real desire to see it, but it would kill the requisite amount of time. As I left the theatre, I felt tightness in my chest. I was nervous. The heaviness in my feet only made the problem worse. I wanted more than anything to see the waitress again. But I was scared.

    If I acted improperly, everything would be lost. All the happiness I fantasized about would be history, or rather, the opposite of history. If I did things right, I had a real shot at it.

    Of course, that wasn’t going to be easy. I had no evidence at all that the waitress dug me in any sense of the term. I didn’t even know if she was interested in being a casual acquaintance, let alone a life partner. All I really knew was that she was beautiful, and I wanted her to spend her time with me. It didn’t seem so much to ask.

    By the time I made it to Pete’s, my breath was difficult to manage. I was sweating profusely. Looking down to ascertain the condition of my clothes, I realized I was wearing the same ones from yesterday. It wasn’t too bad, I decided. I pushed my way through the door and sat down in the booth next to the one I ordinarily occupied. I looked around the place, keeping my head up for once, and saw a heavyset, middle-aged waitress coming toward me. Suddenly, I became very confused.

    She fished a notepad out of her apron. “What’ll it be?” she asked with a slight Texas accent.

    “Uh…” I stammered, looking beyond the waitress for a sign of the girl.

    “What’s the matter?” She crossed her arms dramatically. Her pen waved like a fan between her fingers as she gave me an exasperated look.

    “I’m looking for someone,” I croaked.

    “Looking for who?” She turned around and ran her eyes over the entirety of the establishment. “Ain’t more than a handful of people here.”

    “Well, waiting for someone, actually,” I replied. Then I exhaled, realizing that the universe was not going to change just because I wanted it to. “The other waitress. The one who usually works at night.”

    “She quit. Can I get you something while you wait?” she asked, a little more patiently. “Could be a long time.”

    “Coffee, I guess.”

    “Coming right up,” she said, disappearing into the kitchen. I suddenly felt tired. This whole thing was going to be a waste. The effort, it seemed, was just too much.

    I laid my head down on the table and closed my eyes. The tabletop was cool against my cheek, and it felt good to just stop moving. It seemed all I had been doing was moving from place to place, from emotion to emotion. I had experienced ranges of feeling I didn’t even know I had.

    A thin plastic box with some weight to it fell onto the tabletop. I looked up to see the waitress—my waitress—standing there, covered insulated paper cup in her hand. She set the cup down in front of me. “It’s just a little cold, I think.”

    I looked into her eyes, not believing what I was seeing. “That lady I just talked to said you quit.”

    She swung down into the seat across from me. “I did,” she said nonchalantly.

    I was starting to feel as though I was losing touch with everything real. “So, what are you doing here?”

    “I thought you’d be back tonight. Seemed a pretty sure thing.” She tugged at a strand of hair in front of her face and twirled it in her fingers, eyeing it carefully. She let it fall and blew it away from her mouth.

    “I…” I didn’t know what to say. To admit is to go out on a limb, and limbs get sort of thin the farther away you get from the trunk.

    “Right. You come for the pie. And the coffee,” she said sarcastically. “But you never touch any of