Neon Night Vignette

The last of the lights turned out, drinks and hors d’oeuvres put away, restaurant returned to its every-day self, only a few candles in glass lanterns now left on the bare pine tables. She sits at one of the tables, and, wincing, kicks off her shoes, removes her cocktail apron and name tag, leans on her elbows, inhaling the cinnamon steam from her hot toddy. Exhausted, with her piled-up hair slightly disheveled, she relaxes. The bride and groom are off on their honeymoon to Santorini, guests and most staff home to sleep. The neon glow from outside bathes her in a pink and blue haze making her look less like a waitress and more like a girl expecting a date or actress waiting for her audition. The hot drink gone, she redons shoes and fetches her coat and purse from the kitchen, leaving the cup. Georgio, the boss, calls “Get some sleep. You’ll need it tomorrow.” She sighs.