Dominique Fabre - The Waitress Was New

The waitress was new here. She came out of the underpass and hurried down the sidewalk, very businesslike, keeping to herself, as tall as me even in flat-heeled shoes. Maybe forty years old? Thats not the kind of thing you can ask a lady. She had a sort of flesh-pink makeup on her eyelids, she must have spent a long time getting ready. I didnt look too closely at her shoes, the way I usually do to size someone up, because I had a feeling shed seen some rough times, and there was no point overdoing it. And Ive seen some rough times too, I tell myself now and then, but Im not even sure its true. The sky was all cloudy. Sometimes, on gray days like this, you can see why youre here, in a caf like Le Cercle. People come in to get out of the weather, they have a drink, and then they go on their way. The boss was smoking his morning cigarillo when she showed up. He and I got along nicely, I think you could put it like that. Im already about to retire, whereas hes in his prime, theoretically, but he has problems with his cholesterol, and other health worries besides. He keeps his pills in a corner of the bar next to the Casio. I used to have to take the same kind myself, and Im still here, but I think that sort of got to him, he seemed a little on edge. Sabrina hadnt been in for three days now, shed sent a note from the doctor, she had a bad flu. The new girl must have been wondering if this was the place, I wasnt sure if she was going to come in or keep walking. The boss was dreading another lunch shift alone with his wife and me, and without Sabrina, and of course its not easy finding someone who knows the job to fill in just like that.

The boss threw her a quick glance, she took her little piece of paper from her purse and came in, slower now, yes, it was her. He didnt budge, he just put down his smelly cigarillo in the green and white Suze ashtray. We dont get much call for that kind of apritif anymore, but we still have the ashtrays with the name on them. We also have Dubonnet glasses here at Le Cercle, and other kinds with the brand names of bottles that never come down from the shelves, maybe they still mean something to the customers, what I dont know. She looked a little nervous, and I gave her a big smile to encourage her when she came up to introduce herself. A lot of the time the boss has a sour look on his face, kind of like a bulldog, but hes not such a bad guy, really. Sometimes hell sulk for two or three days, even a month or two, and then as quick as it came over him its gone, and thats the end of it. That week he was scowling more or less full-time, and had been for almost a year, but what can you do, thats the boss. She said something to him in a quiet voice, I couldnt hear because there was a garbage truck being loaded outside. I could see two little green men with big gloves on their hands, along with a mattress done in by the rain yesterday and the day before. Id already looked at that mattress a couple of times, Id even made a quick detour to walk past it on my way in, it spoiled my view. I wondered if somebody was moving out, or maybe thered been a death, unless someone had just left it there because theyd got a new bed. Theres a big furniture store not far from here, on the pedestrian street. It was a king-size, with the usual stains, all on the same side, and little feathers that hadnt felt a raindrop for a good ten years. Ive slept alone for too long. Ive never even had a chance to try Viagra, which apparently works wonders, and ends lots of marriages, from what I hear in the caf. Id like to, from time to time. Hundreds of bottles went tumbling into the truck when the dumpster lid opened, and it made one hell of a racket, if youll pardon the expression. But of course everybody has to throw out a mattress sooner or later, and if youre still alive your nights will never be quite the same. The trashmen shoved it in on top of the bottles and drove away. That would have made a good commercial for Alcoholics Anonymous, I thought to myself, but thats not my line of work. The trashmen go to the other bar, across the street, La Rotonde. I have no idea why its called that.

The boss shook her hand and introduced me. This is Pierre, he said, and she gave me a nod, her eyes were sort of small but bright, maybe because of the cold outside, it was nine-thirty in the morning. I put out my hand and said Hello, hows it going? What I really wanted to say was Welcome to the club, and then give her some tips on the questions she was probably going to ask. The boss isnt much of a talker, but hes him and Im me. Im only the oldest employee of Le Cercle, which is the caf where I work, across from the Asnires train station, where theres nothing to see but people coming in and going out, trains every seven minutes to and from Saint-Lazare in Paris, and also some double-decker Transiliens to Argenteuil, Versailles-Rive Droite, Versailles-Chantier, vreux, Dreux, and lots more places in the outer suburbs. She had a firm grip, when she let go I noticed she had a big wedding ring on her left hand, and I wondered if thats really where its supposed to go. That was all too long ago for me, maybe Id forgotten. Still, Id stayed married for eight years, I was a young man then. I kept my ring on at first. Then I put it in my nightstand drawer. I lost a lot of illusions, but not her. My ex remarried, lived happily, and had two children. Then unhappily, and still two children. Then we lost touch. Her name was Marie, like my adoptive mother. The boss looked around, hed picked up his cigarillo again.

Well, let me show you the kitchen, he said to Madeleine.

With a jerk of his chin he pointed me toward a customer who comes to see us three times a day, I wont mention his name out of Christian decency, hes overdue on his tab. The boss had already asked him more than once when hed be paying, but last night at midnight, apparently Id gone home a good while before the guy had suddenly burst into tears. Hed undone his necktie, laid his suit jacket beside him on the bar next to his final drink, and the boss had had a terrible time getting him to stop his little strip-tease. He was undressing to go throw himself into the river in the altogether, as he put it, the Seines just two hundred meters away. Not even that. I went over to him, I held out my hand, and he gave it a gentle little shake. Hello, Pierre, how are you? Its always the same, once or twice a week he goes on a bender at Le Cercle, then the next day hes all sweetness and light. Sometimes I had to see him home. He lives on La Lauzire, which is a little uphill street not far from the train tracks, where youll find a few millionaires villas, his among them.

So, feeling fine? I asked.

He seemed a little out of it, which gave me a chance to look toward the station. The mattress was gone. Yeah, Im doing OK. Thanks. Hes a developer, hes in on all the crooked deals that go down around here, Ive even been told he knows the people on the District Council, all those suit-wearing lowlifes from Neuilly, Levallois, Clichy, and Paris-La Dfense, but then people tell me a lot of things. I listen, but I dont really hear. I put some coffee in the Lavazzo machine, because I knew hed be wanting a cup at this time of day, and then I came and bent down beside him.

Youre going to have to pay us, you know, I said, with my hand in front of my mouth so no one could hear.

The boss doesnt like dealing with that sort of thing, especially with a guy like this. Also, hes too quick to lose his temper. The guy looked at me, hes one of my favorite customers here, deep-set eyes, never a pain in the ass, a cup of coffee between nine and nine-thirty, daily special at lunchtime when hes not away on business, and then for the past few months hes been coming in after work, too, when Im finishing my shift. Sometimes we talk, which for a barman means I listen while he throws out sentences that dont always know where theyre going, about his life, his career, his children. He has three, with three different wives. The oldest of the girls is thirty, and hes just turned sixty. They look a lot alike. Sometimes they eat together at Le Cercle. Shes a psychiatrist at Marmottan Hospital. She must be his favorite, Ive never seen the two others. Does she know her daddy makes a habit of undressing in Le Cercle to go throw himself into the Seine when hes had one too many? I dont think she has the slightest idea. I like seeing the two of them here, sometimes I even have regrets.