“Woe is me” she said mockingly, the back of her hand on her forehead.

“Shut. up.” I glared at my sister with a look that I hoped cut through her laugh. It didn’t.

“Oh, I’m so hard done by! What a hard-knock life!”

“Fucking stop.” I raised, slamming my fist on the table. I knew better than to complain to her in the first place, she never takes anything seriously. How did I ever expect her to feel sorry for me? This is the most embarrassed anyone has ever felt in the history of ever.

“Starving children? Pathetic. Holocaust? Doesn’t even come close. The worst thing to ever happen on earth—“

“Yeah I get it, there are bigger problems in the world—“

“Is Kyle being rejected by a waitress.”

“If you don’t shut the fuck up…” I said though my teeth, worried that she’d hear us, “I’m not afraid to hit a girl.”

“Yeah, just like you hit it off with— what was her name? Oh, right, you didn’t get it.”

“Fine. Drive yourself home, asshole.”

A different woman came with the bill, thank god. I didn’t want to face her again, but I hope she’s not so uncomfortable that she asked someone else to come finish our table.

“Hey, can I ask you a question?”

I looked up from the debit machine, but my sister wasn’t talking to me.

“Sure” the new waitress said, with a customer service smile.

No no no no no no. What was she doing? Oh fuck. I swear if she was a dude I’d knock her god damn lights out right now. What a jerk.

“What do you think about corny pick up lines?”

The new waitress scoffed and they both giggled. This was my worst nightmare.

“All I’ll say is that in my 10 years of waitressing, I’ve never seen one work.”

I put my head on the table, not caring that it was covered in ketchup.

I’m such a fool.