The Ritual

It was a long night. It is almost always a long night.  Her feet ache.  Once outside, she shivers in the cold.  She tips the valet and slips into her car, turns the heat on high.  The streets are mostly deserted. She watches out for cops and drunk.  As soon as she is on her way, she makes a call.  A groggy voice answers.

He is usually in bed long before her shift ends.  Sometimes he'll be reading or watching TV but usually he is sleeping.  He is not a sound sleeper.  The familiar ring tone shocks him back to life.  "What's up hon?"

She starts rambling as soon as he answers.  She's had to bite back her tongue and keep her real thoughts to herself most of the night.  Sometimes she had a bit much to drink.  Other times she is sober.  She pulls into a late night drive through line and places her order.  "Hold on,"  she says.  "I've got to talk off my jacket and get my ear piece." She places the phone in her lap and wiggles out of her coat. 

He laughs to himself as she places her order.  It always ends with, "and a water cup".  He rolls over and gets comfortable.  Blue glow from the cell phone is the only light in the room.  The voice is distant on the other side of the line, but continues talking.  "Hold on, hold on."  The shuffle of change can be heard, the ghetto voice of a drive-thru attendant handing over the bag and her own voice purring, "thank you."

Her headset on, food in hand, she continues her stories without missing a beat.  She'll mention her customers, the other girls and how she did.  Occasionally, she'll break from the story with a comment concerning the other drives around her.  Her voice gets softer when she spots a cop, as if he won't notice her if she speaks more softly.  "Your turn, " she'll says when she begins to eat.

He tells her about his day.  His stories are not usually as exciting but she listens and makes comments.  There is always something to talk about, his friends, the kids, the ex or work.  He pictures her driving home in her little green car.  He knows the route well, having traveled it both to visit her and to get to his own customers many times.

Her drive is 45 minutes long if you include stopping for food, often the conversation ends with,  "I'm home now;  I'll talk to you tomorrow."  It's their ritual and happens about three times a week.  It makes the night complete.  Like a cup of coffee first thing in the morning.