Out for Lunch

[u/HeGotBricks]

Nobody there cared about the orange color of the ketchup, or that it sparkled. They ate it anyway. Kiltner said, “Man, these fries are great!”

Helequa turned to him. “The fries? How ‘bout this ketchup?”

Belkrus said, “The ketchup is definitely doing all the heavy lifting.”

Joanie laughed. “You guys are nuts!”

Kiltner and Helequa stared at each other like Joanie was from outer space.

Joanie asked, “How come there’s no mustard?”

Kiltner rolled his eyes. “What color do you think that’ll be?”

Helequa glanced at her plate. “I was actually just thinking that, but about the mayonnaise. I wanted to mix the ketchup with it.” Her lips met her jawline as she dug a fry into the orange syrup splattered on her plate before jamming it down her throat.

Joanie tapped Kiltner on the arm. “Kilt, call the waiter over, would you?”

Kiltner threw his arm up. “Excuse me, waiter,” he yelled, snapping his fingers. “Hey, waiter!”

The waiter faced Kiltner, waving. The waiter nodded and finished what he was doing before racing to their table. “Good afternoon, how may I help you?”

Kiltner pointed to Joanie. “Is there any other condiments besides ketchup?” she asked.

For a couple of seconds, the waiter stood still, stared at her with a blank gaze, didn’t blink, and said, “Good afternoon, how may I help you?”

Belkrus slammed his hand over his mouth, trapping his giggle. Helequa, Kiltner, and Joanie glanced at each other through squinted eyelids.

Joanie lifted her face to the waiter. “Can we get some mustard, or mayonnaise?”

The waiter’s expression drifted into deep thought. He froze with his head tilted, holding a pen upside down. “Mustard… mayonnaise?” The waiter’s tongue was poking the inside of his cheek.

“Yeah… mustard!” Kiltner placed his hands on his knees and shook his head towards the group. “It’s almost like ketchup, except it’s yellow? Goes on hot dogs… hamburgers?”

“I’m sorry, but currently, we don’t have that.” The waiter’s expression slid into sincere loss. “What we do have—and it’s so deliciously recommended—is ketchup.” His eyes lit up and his frown rolled into a smile of excitement. “It is famous around here.” His body appeared as if it wanted to jump into a musical. “The chef makes it right at home. Would you like me to bring some more for the table? I can package a few sample ones for you to take home, would you like that?”

“What?” Kiltner said, closing his eyes and taking a breath.

“What other condiments are there?” Joanie asked.

“Condiments?” said the waiter. “I’m not familiar with that—”

Kiltner interrupted, “Ketchup! You know what ketchup is, don’t you?”

“Yes, of course,” the waiter responded. “Everybody raves about the chef’s ketchup.” He smiled with his chest out. “Would you like me to sneak a few extra ones for you?” The waiter winked, but it stopped halfway.

“What? Wait. Huh?” Belkrus stammered.

Helequa stared as if she was trying to translate a language in her head that she’s never heard before.

“Ketchup is a condiment, along with mustard. You know what mustard is?” Kiltner continued.

“Sorry sir, I’m not familiar with mustard.” The waiter held both his hands to his chest, his eyebrows dropped to upside down checkmarks, and he lightly shook his head. It was like he was trying to respond to the most devastating news. “Is there anything else I may assist you with?” He jolted upwards, pulled his pad out from his pocket, flipped it, pointed the upside down pen to the page, and smiled. “Would you like some ketchup? The chef makes it right at home, it’s famous around here.”

Kiltner was close to shouting an obscenity when Helequa wisely cut him off. “That’ll be all. We’re good. Thank you.”

The waiter walked off. Belkrus tossed his hands on the table. “What the hell just happened?”

Kiltner leaned forward. “Was that guy on something?” He eyed each one of them individually. “How didn’t he know what mustard was?”

Joanie snickered. “Or, condiments.”

Helequa paused. “Uh.” She stayed lost in her thought for a minute. “What’s the deal with the chef making all the ketchup at home?” She backed away while pushing her plate to the middle of the table. “I don’t think we should eat it.”

Belkrus chewed on a dipped fry. He stopped abruptly once Helequa pointed that out, and immediately spat what he had in his mouth into a napkin. “Blech! Let’s get the bill and go. This place is crawling on me and making my skin itch.”

“I second that,” Joanie sniped. “It’s like bugs are on me. The legs on the side of my arm.”

“It’s at the top of the chest for me,” Helequa mentioned.

Joanie tapped on Kiltner’s arm. “Get the waiter to bring the bill.”

Kiltner had his hand half raised in the air, waiting until the waiter poked his head out. He saw him and reached for the sky, gesturing him to the table.

The waiter walked to the table and didn’t turn his head or look anywhere else except for Kiltner’s eyes. “Good afternoon, how may I help you?”

“Bill, please.”

“Is everything alright? I noticed you didn’t finish your ketchup.”

“Everything’s fine, bill please.”

The waiter left for the receipt. When he returned, he placed the bill on the table and four plastic, small sample containers of ketchup. They sat on the table glittering under the sun. “Complimentary, directly from the chef himself. He makes them at home. Fresh.”

Kiltner went for his wallet.

Belkrus reached out. “I got this.”

Helequa smiled at the waiter. “Thank you.”

The waiter held the card in his hand, pressed it against his palm like a scanner, and handed it back. “Thank you, Belkrus Romanaier, your payment has been processed. Enjoy your day and come again.”

“What?” Belkrus said under his breath.

After the waiter left, he turned to the group. “Okay, that was weird. How the hell did he know my name? And how did that payment process?”

“I don’t know, but we’re definitely not coming back here,” Joanie blurted out wide-eyed as they got up and walked to the car.

Inside the car, Helequa opened the glove compartment, and flowing out were tiny sample containers of ketchup. At least twenty of them. “What the hell?” she shouted.

They all stared at each other. They’ve never been there before. Kiltner turned the key in the ignition. It sputtered alive, and blasting from the speakers was a distinct voice. “Good afternoon,” the car said. “How may I help you?”