Short Story: A Different Look

Genre: slice of life

 

“Your table number is 8.”

They stared at him.

“Please take a seat,” he repeated.

“Is that really you? What happened to your hair?”

His friends were staring to draw attention from the other guests. He needed them to move.

“Go first. Explanations later,” he whispered.

“Sure thing, kiddo.” The oldest of the bunch reached over to muss his hair out of habit. He grabbed the hand before it messed up the hair he had spent ages to tame.

“Is there a problem here?” His team leader joined them.

“No, ma’am.” His friends sent him a hasty wave and headed over to their table.

“Everything alright?”

“Just some friends. They’re not used to seeing me look like this. Thanks.”

“No problems. You’ll still be serving their table, by the way. Have fun.”

With a glint in her eyes, the manager left. He stifled a groan and faced the next group of guests.

“Good evening. Thank you for coming. May I have your name?”

~End~

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