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The waitressing job turned out to be less promising
than it had sounded. There was a problem. There was
always a problem. According to some pointless, unbreakable
house rule Sue had to memorize the orders. Pencil and
paper were taboo. No matter how complex the order, she
had to commit it to memory. As far as she could tell,
most of the other staff remembered orders easily but
Sue never drank and she found it almost impossible to
remember the names of the cocktails. At the New York
public library she found a book of recipes. She sat
in one of the reading rooms for two hours, trying to
learn the names, but they eluded her with a totality
that she found remarkable.
She couldn't even remember what beers they had. She
approached each table so that she faced the bar. Her
eyes, super acute, allowed her to read the labels on
the pumps.
The uniforms were skimpy but that didn't bother her.
She didn't really care if people looked, and if anyone
tried to do more, she could handle it.
At the waiter station at the bar she repeated what
she could recall and the bartender tried to piece the
puzzle together.
"This one's for a martini, a twist, a Bloody Mary,
a rum, a coke, and a Screwdriver," Susan suggested,
with more hope than confidence.
The bartender shook his head in despair. "So that
would be six drinks?" he asked.
Sue paused for a moment and then nodded. "Yes,"
she said, definitely. Her eyes were wide and wary.
"And how many people were at the table?"
She sneaked a look. There were four.
"Don't aggravate me!" he warned. He was a
big man with a scar just below one eye. "How about
this?" he suggested. "A martini WITH A TWIST,
a Bloody Mary, a rum AND coke, and a Screwdriver. Does
that sound right?"
Sue sighed with relief. "That might have been
it."
"Coming right up." He turned to make the
drinks but then paused. She looked so dejected. He patted
her hand gently. "Stick with me, kid. You'll do
fine."
Back at the table she delivered the drinks with a bright
smile.
"OK," she began confidently, and then remembered
that the misery wasn't over yet. She picked up one of
the glasses and wondered whether it was worth taking
a guess. It looked like tomato juice, but that couldn't
be right.
"Who ordered the red one?"
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