Sadie :: Dairy Queen :: June 2009
I always talked to Lizzie after work. We had our traditions. In fact, we still had a lot of the same habits since our friendship began, way back in fourth grade.
Friday-night sleepovers, Sunday-day study sessions, Wednesday-afternoon after-school matinee. It had all been the same since we were ten.
But it was summer, and all the rituals changed then. The phone calls were the sole constant, because I worked at my first job and Liz was always gone for gymnastics or track meets.
That night, I was especially excited. Overwhelmed, a little. It was by far, the coolest thing to ever happen at Dairy Queen. I mean, we sold ice cream. Not exactly the definition of excitement.
Naturally, I had to tell Liz.
“Liz!” I exclaimed, instantly recognizing her voice with the whole, “This is the Bateman residence,” line.
“Hey, Sade! I was just going to call you. Oh my god, you will never guess who I saw today at the mall!”
“Wait. I have something really cool to tell you,” I said, sure she would freak out at the news. She was a total sucker for this stuff.
She was a little let down, but said, “Okay.”
“Today,” I began, “At Dairy Queen--”
“You made three Blizzards and fifteen sundaes?”
“No. I saw--”
“Jeffrey Reynolds from Geometry?”
“No. Listen for just a sec. I’ll get to it.”
She sighed loudly.
“Fine. If you don’t want to know, then--”
“I want to know!”
I smiled and could almost see the expression on Liz’s face in my mind. Never one to stray away from gossip, even if she had no idea what I was going to say.
“Before I was so rudely interrupted,” I said, clearing my throat for effect. I could hear a, “Hey!” starting to fire back, but I kept going. “I was going to tell you that I saw a guy propose to his girlfriend. Like right in front of me. At Dairy Queen.”
“That’s cool, Sade. How did he do that?”
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“I mean, at Dairy Queen? That has got to be the most unromantic thing I’ve ever heard..”
I replayed the scenario over in my head, so as to assure myself that it was, in fact, one of the most romantic things I had ever seen in my life. And probably, ever would see.
I fidgeted with my hat and adjusted my name pin. I eventually took the name pin of, it was poking me. I settled back with my hands on my cheeks, trying to pass the coolness of the metal counter to the warm flush of my face.
It was my first job. My goal was to save enough to buy a car by my seventeenth birthday in September. A year late, but it was dream. So far, I had gotten about one/one thousandth of it covered.
But it was work. And it was teaching me responsibility and the value of a dollar and blah, blah, blah..
It was really only busy at night, and I constantly got day shifts. Which was okay, I guessed. Everyone had to start somewhere.
I ate an ice cream cone (just the cone) to pass the time. I would never figure out why they thought anyone would come in for ice cream at eleven ‘o clock in the morning. Especially on a day like that, when it was cold, like sixty-three outside.
Breakfast sundaes. I usually didn’t even wake up until one during the summer, and here I was serving people who had already had at least two meals during the day.
I picked at the crumbs under my fingernails and almost didn’t see a pair of customers walk up. A guy and a girl, and apparently, both fans of the breakfast sundaes.
“Hi, what can I get you?” I said, chipper and anxious to finally be doing something.
“I will have a Butterfinger blizzard,” the guy said. They were holding hands, and she nudged him with a reminder. “A medium one.”
They smiled at me and added one more thing.
“StarKiss,” the guy said. “Do you guys still have those?”
“Yup, do you want me get one of those for you as well?” I answered.
“Yeah, a cherry one,” he said, turning to the girl as she grew a little giddy. He slid me a ten-dollar bill and I made change, careful to count as my brain always took a little warming-up so early in the morning.
“Jim. This is so great. My mom brought them in for my class when I was ‘Star of the Week’ in second grade. Get it, because they’re shaped like stars,” the girl said. “I didn’t think they made them anymore.”
“ ‘Star of the Week’?” he questioned her.
I slid back the change and he said thanks. I didn’t get to hear the rest of this, as I turned back to the Blizzard machine and started blending together the Butterfinger concoction.
I handed it to him and I guessed they were still talking about Star of the Week. I had done it, too. We probably even had the same teacher, as I was one of the last ones to have the ever-famous, ancient Mrs. Smith.
“And then I had a display of my cursive writing,” she said.
“I bet that was nice,” he said sarcastically. Then, more serious, “I bet the whole thing was nice.”
I grabbed the StarKiss from the freezer in the back.
They were all set to go.
But not really.
They sat on a bench, just catty-corner to where I could see them. They sat there for a long time, it must have been, because before I knew it, it was time for me to go on break.
Fred from the community college down the street took over for me, during this awkward period of no customers.
I sat down at one of the picnic tables, far away from the couple as possible. Far away, which actually turned out to be practically right next to them, due to the fact the third picnic table had no benches.
I had intended to give them their privacy, as I texted friends and munched on a bag of pretzels and sipped a diet Coke.
But, for some reason, I had been meant to see something spectacular.
I didn’t hear much, but what I did was almost breathtaking.
“Pam,” Jim said, a little bit of nerve in his voice. “You know that I love you, right?”
Oh, man. If I had seen one romantic comedy, I’d seen them all. I had to know what was coming.
“Yes,” she replied, feigning intense seriousness. “You have made it clear. As have I.”
“I just, um,” Jim began.
Want you to marry me, I thought. Or maybe he’d go with the whole Want you to do me the honor of being my wife bit.
I tried to look discreet, clicking away on my cell phone, but really only anticipating a finish.
“I just-- um,” he said finally, totally taking it in a direction I did not expect. They were sitting across from each other, so I could only really see Pam’s back and Jim’s face.
“Uh-huh,” Pam said, clearly confused. “You are such a dork.”
Right then, Jim’s whole look changed. His nerves turned into a smile.
“I know,” he said, stepping off the bench with both of their ice cream containers in hand. Her fingers, I could see, were sticky with cherry-red popsicle.
“Ugh, why did I even buy this? It’s everywhere! And now I’ve got brain freeze,” she admitted with a laugh.
He threw his stuff in the trash can and walked back over to her. I now could see both of them, standing side by side.
“God, you’re right,” he said, examining her hands. “You’re a royal mess.”
“Hold on a sec, didn’t you get any napkins?” she asked, waving her hands in the air.
“Yeah, they’re in my sweatshirt pocket.”
Clearly not thinking, she dove right into the pocket with her messy hands and revealed about sixteen paper napkins and exactly one small jewelry box.
Her mouth was agape, and his was for a split second, too.
He pointed out, clear as a bell, “I’m pretty sure I had something planned. And it didn’t really involve Dairy Queen.”
She was still shocked, the ring was still sitting on the picnic table, still hidden, though not really.
I got up from my table and headed back inside.
Whatever happened from there, I didn’t need to know.
Because I kept envisioning myself as her, and I decided that I would rather not have some teenage girl lurking in the back of my engagement story, told to all my friends.
But I got the main idea, and usually, that was the best part.
Of course, the details were always nice.
“It was romantic,” I said to Liz. “You had to be there.”
“Yeah, well. I guess so. My engagement is going to be one of those sports arena ones. Or fireworks..”
She rambled on about how memorable the setting would have to be and I figured that for that couple, Dairy Queen would fit the bill just fine.
It was cool.
Author's Chapter Notes:
a surprise :)
Chapter End Notes:
thanks for reading !
