This is an automated archive made by the Lemmit Bot.
The original was posted on /r/nosleep by /u/Sipixre on 2024-09-08 16:24:25+00:00.
When you’re in the zone you don’t have to think much. Big, bright, “Hi what can I get you?” Post the ticket to the kitchen. Grab whatever is ready at the window and sling it onto the table. Hi, ticket, plate. Hi, ticket, plate. Rinse and repeat for several hours and then you’re done, feet aching and hopefully a hundred bucks in tips in your pocket.
I did take one break usually, mid morning. I’d wolf down breakfast and then hide in the toilet for 8 minutes to scroll on my phone. But otherwise it wasn’t a job where I could be on my phone much. Maybe later as the breakfast rush died down, but by that point I was usually tired and flagging anyway, and my attention was focused on not delivering plates to the wrong tables.
So it was pretty odd to zone out and find myself standing behind the counter, in full view of everyone, staring at my phone. I never took my phone out when I was on the floor, unless my mom called with an emergency or something.
But when I came to, I looked at my screen and my lips went numb. I had my notes app open and had simply written, “That thing isn’t human.”
If a friend had messaged me I would have assumed it was a prank. But it was my notes app. I had written it. I had clearly just written it. I didn’t remember doing so which was odd, but the last couple of minutes were a blur and I didn’t remember not-doing it either. I was worried I was maybe having a stroke or something. I glanced around quickly and made eye contact with the cook, who said, “Order UP,” like he’d said it a few times already, and nudged a plate towards me. I grabbed it. The #7 was for table 3. I turned around and it was pretty quiet in the diner. I was getting close to the end of my shift. There were a couple of folks in booths and a couple of folks at the counter. I ran the food out to table 3, grabbed them a new bottle of ketchup, and then went to pick up the next order from the kitchen window.
I froze.
How had I not noticed the monster at the counter?
It had a humanoid head, but that was where the resemblance to a human stopped. It had fleshy appendages; they were pinkish and looked like human skin. They were neatly folded up, some joints folding backwards like a bird’s legs, but overall it had fit itself quite compactly into a seat. It wasn’t quite sitting as much as propped between the counter and the stool, its body not able to bend in the places a human’s can. Overall, though, it looked to me kind of like a giant insect. Something about the limbs reminded me of a grasshopper or a praying mantis, the sharpness of the joints and the way they sat on its frame. But the skin. I felt myself gagging, but then the cook, Pascal, was yelling insistently from the window to get my ass in gear.
I grabbed the three plates on autopilot, balancing them on my arms, and hurried out to table 1. I stopped by each table and asked if they needed anything. The man in seat 2 at the counter asked for another glass of water, which I happily obliged. I turned my back to fill a glass at the soda fountain when I froze.
How had I not noticed the man in seat 2 was a monster?
He looked nothing like a man, except that he had flesh-like skin. But that was where the resemblance to a man ended. I had walked up like everything was normal and asked if it needed anything. It made a series of clicking noises. I remember saying, “No problem,” in my customer service voice, like it was the most normal thing in the world, and walked over to pour a glass of water. I was panicking by this point. How could I not notice? Was it messing with my head?
I came to when the cold water came spilling over the edge of the cup and splashed onto my hand. I reflexively pulled back. I dumped the extra water into the drip tray.
I glanced back to see if the monster was there.
I was holding a dripping glass of water for seat 2. I walked over to him and said, “Here ya go, holler if you need anything else,” and moved to toss some menus at two guys who had just come in. I was bussing table 3 when I remembered I hadn’t seen them leave. We’re a tiny hole in the wall place. Five booths and ten counter seats. There’s a bell on the door. Had I heard the bell? They left their food half eaten.
There was a monster in seat 2.
I whipped my head around, but there was an older gentleman, maybe mid 40s, sipping his glass of water and pushing some potatoes around on his plate. I shook my head and laughed quietly to myself. I needed to finish my shift already. I wiped down the table and brought the bin to the kitchen.
In the kitchen I had a meltdown, when the memory of the monster hit me like a freight train.
“Pascal, look at seat 2,” I whispered.
He glanced over and back at me. “Old guy. What, he make a pass at you or something?”
“No, he’s not… I don’t think he’s human,” I said.
“Not…human?”
“He’s a bug person, but I only remember when I’m not looking at him.”
“Okay,” Pascal said. “Can you serve him food? Even if he’s a bug person?”
I shook my head. “I can’t go back out there. It’s messing with my head.”
Pascal said, “You’re tired, let’s get you some water. There’s 20 more minutes until Sheila gets here and she can take over, okay. Can you do 20 more minutes?”
“No!” I shouted. I ripped my arm away from Pascal, who had been patting my shoulder comfortingly. Our dishwasher had brought me a glass of water but I slapped it out of his hand. “I’m not going back out there!”
“Okay…” Pascal said. “I’m going to make a couple phone calls. Sit right there. Ramón, you’re going to have to run a couple tables, okay?”
He called the owner, who said I could leave of my own accord or else they’d call an ambulance for me. I begged Ramón not to go out, but he gave me a wide berth. Pascal escorted me out the kitchen exit, next to the dumpsters. I got in my car and drove home, careful not to look in the windows of the diner. The owner called me the next day and told me I was fired, which was fine by me. I was never going back there. This was just a job to help pay for books while I worked my way through community college. I was already lining up a work study at the library.
He did call me again a week later asking if I wanted to pick up a couple shifts. Just a couple, until he could hire someone else. He was short staffed, you see. Pascal had walked out suddenly, and Sheila… well, Sheila had no-called no-showed three days in a row and he couldn’t get in touch with her at all.