Oliver worked steadily without interruption and finished twenty-five new post-holes by the end of the day. He removed his hat, wiped the sweat from his brow, and whistled for Bayo, who came running.
“How about I go take a shower and we go into town for some dinner, huh, boy? What do you think of that idea?”
The dog wagged his tail furiously and bounded for the truck. Oliver followed. He drove home, rinsed off his tools and placed them on the porch, then took the two coolers from his truck and brought them into the house to refill. After placing them in his refrigerator, he quickly showered, shaved, and dressed in a nice shirt and jacket with no tie. He walked out to the truck where Bayo waited and petted him briskly.
“Ready to get some dinner, boy? Let’s go!”
He drove for about five miles until he reached the heart of a small town called Beadleton, where he parked his truck in front of a building with a sign that read in large script letters “Anderson’s” with the smaller letters “Home on the Range Cooking” beneath it. Oliver got out of the truck, ordered Bayo to stay in the truck, and entered the restaurant.
The sign in the restaurant foyer said, “Please wait to be seated”, but Oliver ignored it and went straight to a booth beside a window. The restaurant was fairly empty, but gearing up for the evening business.
It was not long before a rotund woman spied Oliver as she hurried by and said, “Oliver! Is it Wednesday already?”
“Indeed it is, Mrs. Anderson.”
“Well, let me get you a cup of hot coffee. You want your usual?”
“Yes, please.”
“Coming up. I’ll have our new girl bring it out.”
“New girl?”
“Maria. John hired her late last week.”
“Well, it’s about time you got some help around here, Mrs. Anderson,” said Oliver with a smile.
“Amen to that, Oliver.” She scurried off.
Oliver gazed out the restaurant window to check on Bayo, who was napping comfortably in the bed of the truck. Suddenly, the dog lifted its head and looked down the road, and Oliver looked in the same direction. Down the road approached a car. As it neared the restaurant, blaring rap music pounded through the air. The flashy car screeched into a parking spot in front of the restaurant and happily to Oliver, the rap music stopped. Four young men, barely in their twenties, piled out of the car, laughing, and entered the restaurant. They, like Oliver, also ignored the “Please wait to be seated” sign, and took a booth opposite Oliver.
“City boys,” muttered Oliver under his breath.
The young men talked loudly and laughed. One of them caught Oliver’s eye, gawked at him like a moron, and said, “Duuuuuuuhhh...”
The other young men laughed uproariously. Oliver turned his head and stared out the window.
The new waitress brought Oliver his coffee. She was short, perhaps in her late thirties. She wore her black hair in a tight bun, and her lovely blue eyes peered through a set of wire frame glasses. She was tan, with a striking white smile that lit her face. Though her uniform was not flattering, her figure was fetching, and the young men noticed.
As she set the coffee in front of Oliver, she said, “Here’s your coffee, your steak’s coming up real soon. Mr. Anderson was expecting you.”
Oliver smiled at the pretty woman, and said, “You must be Maria.”
She smiled back. “That’s me.”
“It’s about time Mr. Anderson hired some help for Mrs. Anderson.”
“That’s what Mrs. Anderson says too.”
“You know, in her day, Mrs. Anderson was quite a looker. It’s good to know Mr. Anderson hasn’t lost his eye for beauty.”
Maria blushed and smiled. “Oh, you’re a sweet talker, aren’t you?”
“Not at all. Just observant.”
She smiled brightly as she turned to attend to the table of the young men. She handed out menus to them and pulled a pad and pen from her apron pocket.
“What would you fellows like to drink?” she asked.
The young men leered at her. One sitting on the inside said, “Hmm, how about...maybe some milk, honey?”
Another sitting on the outside placed his hand on her hip and said, “Yeah, you could probably set us all up with plenty of milk, huh mama?” They all laughed at the comment.
Maria frowned and backed away. “Do you want something to drink or not?”
The young man with the roaming hand laughed and said, “Just bring us all large cokes.”
Maria left quickly. The young men talked among themselves, making several vulgar comments about the waitress. Oliver stood from his booth and approached the young men.
He said, “Excuse me, gentlemen…you’re not from around here, are you?”
The young man with the roaming hand looked Oliver up and down and said in a deprecating tone, “Huh. No, Jed, we ain’t.” The other young men chuckled.
“I thought not. I was watching your interaction with the young lady and thought you all could use some guidance as far as protocol in these parts.”
The young man looked at Oliver with wide eyes, and said, “Interaction...protocol...them’s big words, Jed!” The young men burst out with laughter.
Oliver smiled patiently. “I just thought you should know that around these parts, we treat women with respect. We take it very seriously. You need to change your behavior with the waitress. You must treat her with politeness and respect. Do you understand?”
The young man reproduced the previous moronic look of his friend. “Duuuuuuuuuhh... uh...OK, George...we will do dat...duuuuh.” The laughter was even louder.
“I hope you do. Good evening.” Oliver went back to his booth and began to drink his coffee.
Soon Maria returned with Oliver’s steak and four large cokes on a large tray. She set the steak with a baked potato and salad in front of him.
“It looks delicious. Thank you,” said Oliver.
She smiled at Oliver then turned to attend to the young men. She set their drinks on the table, put her pad on her tray, and readied herself to write their order.
“OK, what’ll it be tonight, boys?” she said.
Three of the young men ordered quickly, but the one with the roaming hand glanced at Oliver and said, “Well, I’ll have steak and make it rare. I like pink meat, honey.” Then he reached around and pinched Maria’s behind.
She immediately backed away and said, “Hands off, pig!” She left to fill the order, as he laughed. The other young men laughed nervously as Oliver slowly rose from his seat, casting a large shadow on the group.
The young man with the roaming hand now put it out to halt Oliver who approached the group, and said, “Now, Jed, calm down. We’re just having a little fun...”
Oliver stood calmly before them, and said, “Gentlemen, I owe you an apology.”
All four looked at each other with a little perplexity.
“No, no, it’s true,” said Oliver. “I know now that I did not communicate with you very clearly. I was too vague and my meaning was lost. Do you forgive me?”
The four nodded slowly, their mouths fell open, letting a few chuckles escape.
Oliver bowed his head in recognition of their forgiveness, and said, “Thank you, gentlemen. Now if you’ll permit me, I’d like to make amends. I’d like to correct my previous mistake. Would you permit me that privilege?”
They nodded again in the same way.
“Thank you,” said Oliver.
With that, Oliver’s large left hand clamped around the throat of the young man with the roaming hand. His eyes bulged and he turned a deep red. His friend seated across from him attempted to remove Oliver’s hand, but Oliver clamped his right hand on the back of his neck and pinned his head to the table making the silverware dance. Oliver’s fierce countenance froze the other two young men with fear. Oliver put his face millimeters from the face of the young man whose throat he clenched. He spoke in calm, even tones, as if he were speaking to a small child or old woman, and it seemed as if he exerted no real effort to restrain the young men.
“Now, my friend,” said Oliver, “are you listening to me? Do I have your attention?”
The young man nodded spasmodically with choked gurgling, his face beet red.
“Good, good. We certainly don’t want anymore miscommunication, do we?”
The young man shook his head.
“Good. Now what I said before...I suppose it didn’t come out just right, but you can forgive a poor, simple country boy, can’t you?”
He nodded.
“Yes, I knew you would. You have a good heart. But you know, this kind of miscommunication is to be expected between strangers, don’t you think?”
He nodded.
“Of course. You boys don’t know me. You don’t know my linguistic mannerisms, my background, my beliefs...all these things that mightily influence communication. So let me tell you a little fact about myself that might help me better communicate my meaning to you. Would you like that?”
He nodded.
“I appreciate this latitude. Well, here it is: for two years of my life, I worked in a slaughter house. Isn’t that an interesting fact?”
He nodded.
“Yes, I think so too. Now that you know that little fact about me, let me say this: if you or any of your friends do or say anything the slightest bit ungentlemanly to that waitress, if I detect even a hint of disrespect in the tone of your voice, if you so much as twitch wrong, you and all your friends will leave this restaurant by the spoonful. Now did you understand that?”
He nodded.
“Is that clear?”
He nodded.
“I’m so glad. Now for the important question...do you believe it?” With this question, he clamped down more on both of the young men.
With a wheezing squeak, the young man nodded furiously, and the one pinned to the table squealed, “Ahhhh! Yes! Ow! Yes! Ahhhh!”
Oliver released both young men and stood tall and straight before the group. “Gentlemen, you’re too gracious to permit me this opportunity to correct my mistakes. It’s not every day I meet men of your caliber. Salt of the earth, that’s what you are. And I’m sure you’ll want to apologize sincerely to the waitress, won’t you?”
They all nodded. The two men Oliver had grasped rubbed their necks, gasping and coughing.
“And a large tip is in order too, don’t you think?”
They all nodded.
“Gentlemen, such kindness and beneficence are all too rare today, and by God, I’d hate myself if I didn’t stay here to witness every second of it. Every one of us can use these shining examples of virtue to spur us on to greater works of good. My hat’s off to you.” Oliver returned to his booth and began to dig into his meal.
After a few minutes, Maria returned with the young men’s orders. As she set the food before them, Oliver gripped his steak knife firmly and looked hard at the young man with the roaming hand.
The young man’s eyes grew wide and he quivered a bit as he touched Maria’s arm and said, “M-ma’am?”
Maria jerked her arm away and backed away. Oliver slid over a bit to the edge of his seat, as if he were ready to gut the young man with his steak knife.
With an ashen look of panic, the young man said, “No, no, no! I just...we all just want to...to apologize to you for...for our behavior. It was wrong, what we did. We-we were wrong. Way wrong. We were complete...idiots...and we...we’re really, really sorry. Me especially.” The young man’s eyes darted back and forth from Maria to Oliver. Oliver slid back into his seat, stabbed a bite of his steak with the knife, and popped it into his mouth.
Maria looked back questioningly at Oliver who was simply enjoying his meal.
“That’s...OK...boys. Just don’t...let it happen again.”
“No, ma’am. We won’t. Never again.”
“OK...enjoy your meals.” She walked slowly back to the kitchen, eyeing Oliver who seemed oblivious.
After she left, Oliver saluted the young men with his knife. “You’re all such fine examples of men...it almost makes me cry to see it. Now...a nice, big, cash tip, as you’ve suggested, and you’ll bring great joy to a simple man’s heart.”
The young men nodded nervously and ate quickly and silently. Within fifteen minutes, they finished and asked for the check. Each one put some money into a small pile to pay for their meals. They began to stand and slide out of the booth until they saw a thin-lipped Oliver with a glinting knife and a twitching right eye. Instantly, they all opened their wallets, dumped the contents on the table, and showed Oliver the black emptiness. Oliver gestured toward the exit with a jerk of his head, and the young men practically climbed over one another to leave the restaurant. They fumbled into their car and screeched out of the parking lot and into the distance with rap music blaring.
Oliver stood, went to the young men’s table, and gathered the scattered cash into a neat pile with the bill, then returned to his table. After a few minutes, Maria returned to the table and slowly picked up the pile of cash and the bill.
She turned to face Oliver and said, “What’s the deal here?”
“What’s the trouble?” asked Oliver innocently.
“What’s with all this money?”
“Oh, they asked me to apologize to you again for their behavior and said for you to enjoy the tip.”
Maria riffled through the cash. “Omigosh…there’s over $200 here.”
Oliver whistled. “Generous fellows. Repentant too.”
Maria beamed. “Wow. I’ve never got a tip this big.”
Oliver smiled. “What will you do with it?”
“Oh, money has a way of spending itself, you know.”
“I know what you mean.”
“I gotta show Mrs. Anderson this.” She hurried back to the kitchen.
Oliver leisurely finished his meal and read a newspaper. After about a half hour, Maria came with the check and a bag stained with moisture.
She handed the bag to Oliver and said, “Mr. Anderson said to give you this soup bone for your dog.”
“Thank Mr. Anderson for me.”
“OK. Hey, I showed Mrs. Anderson my tip, and she said that this is the lucky spot in the restaurant. She said over the years she’s gotten several large tips and always from this part of the restaurant. She said her biggest tip was $216. I got $183 from those guys.”
“Huh. Imagine that. Well, I’m glad to be sitting here then. I can use all the luck I can get.”