The servers whisper to each other
as they scurry to every table
and squint worried eyes while
scrutinizing each and every ice-tea glass,
raising them to eye-level,
or kneeling to better see,
searching for something.
“Has someone lost a tooth?”
I joke, offending a woman who happens to hear.
“Or a contact lens?”
I add, to get a rise out of her.
She is not amused.
The concerned crew just smiles and
continues their search.
As they chat and call out to each other
I envy their camaraderie
and wanting to join them
comment in the language that will let me in –
“No se preocupen – no pasa nada”
annoying the lady with the napkin
properly spread across her lap.
and calls out exaggeratedly
“You should be speaking English to them!”
Barely distracted by the remark,
Martina raises up the sought after glass,
Gonzalo rushes to examine
the slightest hairline crack along the edge,
and Javier takes it to the kitchen,
tossing it in the trash.