Cafe Car, 10:30
This is the part that Mile hates. Endless lines, snotty customers. The job was no so bad beside this part. Working the night shift could get annoying, but there is an upside. About midnight, everyone starts going to sleep. Just a few die-hards sitting in the booths drinking coffee. At least it wasn't the Metroliner, or one of those Sunday afternoon trains. They were like this the whole time. People standing in the isles.
Mr. Nilsen and Billy were finally getting close to the front of the line. "Goddamn lines," mutters Mr. Nilsen, "and I'm not even buying any of their crappy expensive food."
"What can I do for you?" asks Miles in his best cheery employee voice.
"I just want some plastic knives and forks," says Mr. Nilsen.
"I'm sorry," says Miles, "All we have is spoons, for the soup. No knives or forks."
"Look, I have been standing in this line for half an hour, could you please check if you have any knives and forks."
"Sir, I know I don't so I don't need to check. Besides, I shouldn't be giving things out if you aren't buying anything."
"I have just about had it with you. All I want are some knives and forks, is that so hard?" by this point his voice had reached a volume that was difficult to ignore. A conductor came in.
"What seems to be the problem, sir?" asks the conductor.
Mr. Nilsen launches into a tyrade as the train pulls in to a station. After a few minutes, the conductor, now looking somewhat annoyed, asks Mr. Nilsen to step out onto the platform to discuss the matter with him, at which point, Mr. Nilsen stalks off, with Billy in tow.
Good riddence, Miles thinks.
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