We all nod in silent agreement that we’re ready.
“Yes, can I please have the Turkey and Swiss Club Sandwich with a cup of wedding soup?” Dom starts, his voice smooth and confident.
The waitress smiles kindly at him and nods.
“I’d like the Ham and American Cheese Club Sandwich and a small garden salad, please - if that’s okay,” Leon says next.
Again, she smiles, polite and professional, and nods at him.
“Uh, can I please get a small Caesar salad?” Asher asks, her voice soft.
That’s when I saw it - the flicker of hatred back in the waitress’s eyes. Her smile faltered for a split second, just long enough for me to notice. It was fake, brittle, and forced - like she was struggling not to let the disgust show as she nodded and scribbled down Asher’s order.
And then she turned to me.
“Ju
