Sharply Dressed Men

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Literary Fiction  |  House: Booksie Classic
Three sharply dressed men sitting in a diner.

Submitted: June 21, 2019

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Submitted: June 21, 2019

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“Sharply Dressed Men”

 

Three sharply dressed men were sitting in a diner that was overlooking a busy road. The diner was barely active with only a few working-class men and women going for a quick bite and some raggedy old people hugging the corners of the place. The waiters were mostly bored and checking their phones trying to resist the urge to smoke. There was a comfy tune playing in the background that was being drown out by the rapid swooshing of cars passing by. The three sharply dressed men were lighting up the place with their laughter and loud banter which caught the eye of a nearby burly waitress.

“Wh-what did she say again?” One of the sharply dressed men was laughing using his whole body. His little eyes were swallowed up by the wrinkling of his laughter, pointing at his sharply dressed friend across the table from him.

The man across the table put on a girly voice and said, “Oh Roy, if you would have remembered our anniversary, I would have given you what you wanted: a loveseat.” He smirked and the guy across from him started laughing again.

“You heard that? A loveseat!” The laughing man turned to sharply dress man #3 sitting right beside him.

“I don’t, I don’t get it.”

The laughing man glanced across the table for a bit and looked back, “Come on Johnny, it’s a position.”

Johnny sighed and looked away, fingering the menu. He was as sharply dressed as the other two men, sporting a black blazer, but he was much skinnier with short blonde hair. The laughing man was much older and had silver hair with a short gray beard. The man across from them was the most handsome. His hair was sleeked back, and his jaw was highly defined. He wore sophisticated glasses to top it all off.  

“Give ‘em a break Dean. The boy ain’t had his first fling yet.”

Dean smiled again, “Yeah yeah sure. I wish I had a face like yours Johnny.”

The waitress that was eyeing them walked over holding a pot of coffee, “You boys ready to order?” She placed one hand on her fat hip and waved the coffee pot suggestively with the other.

Dean kept showing off his stupid grin and said, “Well? Are you boys ready? You guys talk too much”

Johnny and Roy nodded and ordered some eggs, toast and some pancakes. Dean ordered a tall strawberry milkshake.

“Ya’ll want some coffee?” The waitress said, still waving the coffee pot. Johnny and Roy nodded, and Dean gave it a pass.

“Folk around here don’t usually come fully dressed without a briefcase. You boys work nearby?” The waitress started pouring hot black coffee.

“Excuse me mam, we ain’t boys.” Dean smiled again, “Except this guy o’er here.” He elbowed Johnny and started laughing.

Roy took a sip of his coffee and adjusted his thick frame glasses and said, “Advertising.”

“What was that honey?”

“We work in the city in an advertising agency.”

The waitress bopped her head slightly, “You guys do commercials?”

“Well…we,” He made eye contact with Dean and said, “We come up with ideas. We’re just the idea people that’s all. Like that TV show Mad Men.”

“Hmm. Getting paid pretty well for a couple of thinkers. Food will be done shortly okay?” The waitress walked away.

“Mad Men? You think she knows that show?” Dean’s smile went away at last. Johnny was still silent and now rubbing his arm, peering out the window.

Roy sighed, “It’s the best I can come up with.”

“Whatever. Listen, we doing this or not?” Dean leaned in closer across the table and took a glance outside the window across the road.

“Yeah, yeah. Sunday though.”

“Sunday? But it’s fucking Tuesday Roy!”

“Dean,” The three of them looked around the diner to see if the old people brought their hearing aids, “Lower your goddamn voice. You said you wanted to keep doing this right? It was my idea to begin with, so you stick with me or you’re fucking out.”

Dean leaned back and sighed, “Alright, alright. You’re the boss. Shoot.”

“Sunday is the best day, why? Because there’s little traffic. Less traffic means an easier time.”

“And you know this …how exactly?”

“Been coming here a lot recently by myself. Just to make sure.”

Dean looked out the window, “And you’re sure?”

“Yes I’m fucking sure Dean.”

“You seriously been coming here by yourself?”

“Yeah. They have great pancakes.”

“For how long?”

Roy took a sip of his coffee, “That’s a trade secret my dear friend.”

“Alright. Alright.”

Johnny opened his mouth for once and said, “What about dri—”

“Here you guys go. Our specialty, eggs and toast. Nothing fancy, but hey it sells.” The waitress sat the plates down. “And here’s your milkshake…….sir.”

Dean waved at her, “Thanks uh…”

“Samantha.”

“Samantha. Thanks Samantha, sweetie. We good for now.” The three men waited until Samantha was well away from their table.

Roy started digging into his pancakes, “You were saying?.”

Johnny started, “Um..sure. The driving. Wh-wh-what about the driver?”

“What what what what,” Dean started mocking him, “Johnny you sound like that retard I use to know back in High School. The boy kept stumbling.” Dean smiled and patted Johnny on his back, “Here let me reboot you.” Johnny looked at Dean and swallowed hard. “Go on Johnny, say what you gotta say.”

“Um, the driver. Want me to drive or?”

“Do you want to drive?” Roy asked.

“I’m fine with driving if you guys are okay with it.”

“Then yeah, you can drive.”

Dean started laughing, “Well well. You don’t want any of that action Johnny boy?” Johnny looked down at his egg and toast and took small pieces of it, “Did you hear about the last guy who drove?”

“Come on, Dean. Let the kid enjoy his breakfast.”

“No no it’s a good story. It’s a great lesson. You know, for next time.” Dean shifted in his seat and positioned his body to the side to face Johnny, “He was young like you. But you know, more talkative and less handsome. The guy was as cool as Iced Tea on a hot summer day until he got to be the driver. Once he got behind that wheel, he became paranoid. I listened to the boss man over here though and let him keep his license. But you know, the shit gets crazy once it’s actually happening right? So me and Roy were done with our shit and came outside and I shit you not, he was gone!”

Johnny and Roy were both stuffing their faces.

“He was fucking gone! Unbelievable. Luckily, Roy and I are quick thinkers and decided to book it. We went back to our old place and, as if from the grace of God, there was our driver sitting on the floor holding his head. He kept saying sorry this, sorry that and whatever and you know what we did Johnny? Or more importantly what I did?”

Johnny swallowed and said, “No?”

“Come on boy. Take a wild guess.”

“You let him go?”

Dean slammed his hand on the table shaking both plates and almost spilling his milkshake and said quietly with a big smile, “I shot him.”

“You shot him?”

“I fucking killed the poor kid.” He started giggling.

“So you killed him. Just like that?” Johnny stared long and hard outside the window after he said those words.

“Just like that Johnny. Can you believe that? Me?”

“What Dean here is trying to say is that if you’re the driver, you better not mess the whole thing up.” Johnny let go of his fork and started licking his lips.

“You’ll be fine kiddo, as long as you don’t leave. We’ll handle the dirt.” Roy patted Johnny’s shoulder to comfort him.

“Cowards get shot,” Dean said while tapping the side of his head. “You’re a good kid though. You already passed the first test.”

“You were testing me?” Johnny asked.

“Yeah, kinda. You ain’t talking ‘bout the job which means you’re following rule numbero uno.”

Dean and Roy both looked at each other and Dean said, “Don’t talk about Fight Club,” and began laughing.

The waitress came over to check on them amidst the laughter, “You boys all good here?”

Roy finished his coffee, “Yeah, we all good. Give us the check.”

“Alrighty. Here you go.” The waitress put down the check and walked away.

“Pay the lady.” Roy said while pointing at Dean.

“Me? Why me?”

“You talked the most.”

Dean smiled and sighed, “Alright alright.” Dean put down a 20 and Roy put down $50. Dean looked at Roy confused at what just happened.

“She’s a good waitress and this place has good pancakes. Live a little, boys. We have enough.” Roy took a glance outside the window.

Dean nodded and said, “She’s engaged with Little Debbie if you haven’t noticed.”

“Shut up.”

The three sharply dressed men got up from their table and stretched a little. There were still a couple of elderly folks floating around and the three men were still the brightest and most interesting part of the diner. As the three sharply dressed men prepared to leave, the waitress, Samantha, came over and asked if Dean wanted to take his milkshake to go and Dean, with his stupid grin, said, “I don’t even like strawberries,” and started laughing. With that, the three sharply dressed men finally left the diner.

One of Samantha’s co-workers came over to her and said, “Who were those gentlemen?”

“I don’t know. But one of them always tips good so I don’t really pry that much.”

“They seem shady, Samantha. Three white guys in suits walking around in this part of the neighborhood is not common.”

“I don’t know. I kinda liked the one with the glasses.” Her co-worker grunted and left her. Samantha came over to the men’s table to clean up and noticed a piece of tissue beneath one of the coffee cups that read: We get paid Sunday. Wanna come hang out? I swear we don’t bite. I’ll meet you here like always. Samantha smiled and stuffed the tissue in her pocket.

She looked outside the window and across the busy road. She stared long and hard until finally she said to herself, “Hmm,” and she collected her tip and walked away.


© Copyright 2019 Manolo. All rights reserved.

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