I picked up the plates and dirty cups from the table and put them on the tray, trying to ignore the bickering at the next table. The restaurant was clearing out and soon enough someone was going to have to tell the couple that they would have to leave. They were an older couple, probably in their thirties. The woman had a slick ponytail and the beginnings of wrinkles around her brown eyes. The man had a scruffy beard and scraggly hair, and he wasn't as cleaned up or posh as his girl was.
The girl sipped from her cup of coffee. I stalled a bit, wiping the table down a little more than necessary. "I need you to sign these papers," she said calmly. She pushed the papers towards him.
"Do you know how many trees died to make these sheets of paper? And your happy-go-lucky lawyer decided to use those trees corpses to make our divorce papers come to life. I just can't participate in this sadism!" he exclaimed, smiling mockingly.
She slammed her hand down onto the table. "What are you trying to fulfill by not signing these papers?! Even if you don't sign them, I'll date and have sex with others. These papers aren't stopping me from leaving you," she hissed. She paused to calm down and continued, "We just need to make it official, so if you will just please sign here, here, and here," she said, pointing to the different spots on the papers.
I leaned my hands against the table, my eyes began to cloud over and my head and legs started to go numb. Everything slowed down for a moment and when I finally looked up the woman was there, asking me if I was all right. Her hand was on my lower back and I shivered, subtly moving away so as not to get the husband jealous. "I'm fine, I'm fine," I murmured, nodding, and rushing to the bathroom, leaving the tray of plates on the table. I pulled the bullet from my pocket and made a line on the bathroom sink, quickly snorting it and wiping my nose. Everything went back to normal again. I pushed open the door again and saw the man standing there with wide eyes. I noticed how dirty he was, and the reeking smell he had on his body. I wiped my nose out of habit and nodded. "Good luck with your wife, man," I said, walking away. My shift was over.
"Yeah, good luck with life, man," he said quietly. He knows.
A lot of people know that I'm using but not any of the people that actually matter. Men, and sometimes women, see me doing lines off of sinks at night clubs, or someone will watch me rub some of the last few crumbs on my gums. And they'll stare at me as I'm doing it because they forget that it's rude to do that, but I don't mind.