An Arizona Dream

It was a normal vacation night for the O’Donnell, Canavan, Millard Family. Our close friends had just left our desert resort and we were out at a “local” though blatantly tourist, restaurant.

We had to wait five minutes to be seated but once at our table the family settled into our mannerisms. Mom began to comment about her great restaurant find, Casey began to brood over his menu, glasses off, and I listened to mom’s proclamation, getting ready to reply with a “Yes mom, what a great find.” We were ready to attack or basket of authentic salsa and chips when we heard “Hi my name is Parker and I will be your server this evening.” My mom and I looked up at our specimen and nodded in approval for this Parker couldn’t have be cuter. After our examination, we then proceeded to give him our orders with as much personality as we could, with the exception of Casey, who had no interest in showing Parker how fun our family could be.

Once he left the table, we proclaimed his hotness and continued to giggle for the rest of the evening which flew by substantially. As mom talked to me about the Indian ruins she viewed that day, I watched the waiters glide through the archways of the plastered Mexican villa, with hope that I would see Parker coming our way. Occasionally he would come straight to our table, flirtatiously smiling as he served me first. But don’t underestimate him. He had a job and he would gladly move past my table to the others with even more young girls like me.

Maybe it was the humid air but I felt I was hit over the head with his charm. There was something about the way he would breeze by our table singing along to the guitarist’s Blackbird or how he would say thank you when he squeezed past my chair as if I had moved it a mile so he could walk by. So, I immaturely twirled my hair, itched my neck, and looked down for fear that I would meet his eyes. Or maybe I was scared that I was just another tip. All in all, I knew is that I was blatantly feeding my inner-preteen dream with this cute, sandy haired, attention giving waiter.

The check came and thoughts came flooding:

This is my chance. Leave your number. Ew you sleaze! Okay how about your screen name. No don’t leave anything. Yeah that will be mysterious. But wait he wont…

The thoughts went on and on, but there I was a seventeen year old, still in high school, and out with her parents on a family vacation; and he was most likely twenty something and had a girl back home, wherever that was. Still, I couldn’t help but slowly walk out of the restaurant, hoping that something would happen.
“Night.” A voice called out.
I figured it wasn’t directed at me, but as I turned around there he was.
“Goodnight” Parker smiled
“Night!” I jolted out in the most thankful tone I could muster.

The ride home was a mind of regrets, plans, dreams, and the word DORK flashing repeatedly. It could be in my head, in fact, it probably is. Just another cute boy who’s niceness is mistaken for flirting that leads on another girlish dream. How pathetic! But here I am with a memory that wont leave my minds front and a receipt for $66.56 signed “Thank you so much! ~Parker”

I laugh at my lack of boldness and I laugh at the thought of it. Nothing would or will happen. So I sit here writing absurdly about a waiter, who makes me blush as I brood over my regret which I will most likely forget. Obviously if my actions were different, my future would be too. But who can tell if I was just another tip on the table? Who can tell if I was just another girl he served that night? But who can tell if he wasn’t my soul mate or a great love waiting to happen? I know, I know, I sound idiotic and prepubescent saying these things. I’ve known for awhile that I have been a hopeless romantic, but this has nothing to do with me wanting a boyfriend. Though it may help, this story is about untaken opportunities and what life could have been if you didn’t sit in the back seat but in the driver’s. Then again, maybe I’m just creating a moral, out of a story of an infatuation that lasted but a weekend, who knows? Take what you will from this story, God knows I wont.