The Perils of Being Dawn

“The vegetable soup is really good. It’s a light broth loaded with veggies,” I suggested to a woman who didn’t know what she wanted to order and regarded me tensely and warily. Her wide, faded blue eyes set under a widow’s peak and a crown of wispy white hair didn’t look familiar. Yet, I wondered if I waited on her before and forgot to refill her coffee when requested. Or bring extra napkins. Customers often have long memories.

“I’ll have the vegetable soup,” said her friend whose tone and manner were gentler, more relaxed. She smiled her encouragement to the Wary Woman.

“I don’t know,” said the Wary Woman. She stared at the menu, then me, like we were trying to sell her land under the Golden Gate Bridge.

“It’s my favorite soup of the bunch,” I said.

“It is good,” reassured the Relaxed Woman.

“It’s good?” she asked, never losing her edge of suspicion.

“Yes, I love it,” I said.

She studied me for a second, then said, “Yeah, but your name is ‘Dawn’.”

“Yeah?” I wondered what I’d done to offend her.

“That’s the name of my daughter-in-law,” she snorted, waving her hands dismissively.

She ended up ordering the vegetable soup and seemed to enjoy it. After confessing her feelings, she was all smiles. Throughout the lunch, I paid them extra attention. “I’m gonna redeem the name ‘Dawn’,” I assured the Wary Woman.

“Why don’t you just take her place?”

“Well, I’d need to meet him first.” I giggled self-consciously, wanting to pass off the remark as a joke.

She didn’t laugh. “Oh, he’s great. You’d like him.”

“Yes, I’m sure I would. But he might not like me and–”

“We’ll work it out!” she insisted. I laughed again. She still didn’t.

Advertisements

Vanity Plates

“I’d like some black coffee,” said the woman. Her eyes squinted at my chest through rimless bifocals with thick, black, gold-trimmed earpieces. “Look at her name tag.” Rectangle-shaped earrings swung as she turned towards her friend. A geometric pattern woven into her sweater repeated her earring pattern.

“Oh. Dawn.” the other woman responded, with a tone that sank into the seats. Her wrists and neck were draped in gold chains, and her short-cropped gray curls harmonized with the purple rims of her glasses and bright peach cardigan.

“Well, my name certainly isn’t Pie Shoppe,” I quipped, hoping to lift the tone. My name tag indicated both my name and the name of my employer.

“Dawn is the name of my daughter-in-law,” she said with the same tone and shrugged. Then she suddenly laughed. “Her license plate says SUNRISE.”

“‘Sunrise’? ‘Dawn’ sounds so much prettier,” said Geometric Woman.

“I know. ‘Sunrise’ sounds so pretentious and clunky!” said Mother-in-Law. “There are so many DAWN plates out there it would’ve had to be DAWN469. She wanted the name, but no number. Obviously no one else was interested in SUNRISE.”

“I’ve always thought ‘Aurora’ was a pretty complement to my name,” I said.

“Aurora. That’s nice. I like that too,” said Mother-in-Law. “My son’s license plate says SPORTS NUT.” She rolled her eyes and laughed. “Don’t know why they spent that money. Why didn’t they go out to dinner instead?” We laughed with her.