3 O’CLOCK BLOOM Fiction by Noelle Marasheski
It was mid-afternoon, meaning the residually energetic shopping street had calmed down. The lunch rush was over, and considering the coffee shop closed by dinner time, they’d only receive a few more customers by closing. That was good news for the waiter as he tried to get the order of a regular customer who should’ve known what the special of the day was by then. Every day, Sam would have to get up on a wobbly stool and etch the special on the chalkboard for all to see. It was high enough on the wall to be over everyone’s heads even when the place was packed. The place was empty, and the man should’ve seen the board. “What’s your special of the day again?” Jerry couldn’t make up his mind. He went there almost every day, yet he never saw the sign no matter how many times it was pointed out to him. “It’s the spring chicken soup; it’s got carrots, garlic, scallions,” Sam started to recite the ingredients, the portly man waving him off. “Nah, I think I’ll just have a cheeseburger. Medium rare. Good ole white American cheese.” Jerry shoved the menu back to Sam, who was still attempting to write down all the specifics to his order. Sam took the menu, holding it to his chest in the crook of his arm while he finished. “And what drink would you like?” “Oh, you know what I like.” Jerry heartily laughed, patting Sam on the shoulder. Sam gave his best guess from what he could remember after sidestepping to gain back some personal space. “Blue Moon?” “Yeah, that’s it!” 92