Friday Fictioneers has a new home with Rochelle Wisoff-Fields and to quote Yoda, “Rochelle, thankful to have you we are.”  You can access all the stories at  Read, comment, like.  (Wait!  Isn’t that a book about blogging??)  As for me and my blog, I’m happy to have comments and criticism, provided both are couched in positive terms without no bad language.  Now, without further ado, this week’s story.  (Any mistakes courtesy of sangria and a dinner of amazing tapas…blog to follow tomorrow!)

Copyright Rochelle Wisoff-Fields


I know immediately this couple needs the corner booth, with privacy and the view.  I leave menus, bring water and contemplate what that booth has witnessed.

Make-ups and break-ups.
Kisses and kiss-offs.
Tears of unutterable joy and inexpressible sorrow.
Eyes clinging and veering away.
Loneliness and forever friendships.
Hilarity and hysterics.

The gamut of emotions.

I came here, a callow waitress, in it for the tips, waiting to move on.

I stay on as owner and full-time town psychologist; the booth, my couch.  Therapy for the cost of a meal.  I stay out of love and need.  Theirs and mine.

  1. Sweetly told. Your words touched a place where tranquility resides.

  2. boomiebol says:

    Very nice and oh so real! Well done

  3. Ver nice! Sounds like the beginning of a good story. To know and hear all that the waitress witnesses. Could be intriguing.

  4. Sandra says:

    Good one, and a really rich seam here for a whole host of stories. Good idea.

  5. I echo the other comments, Janet. This could be the beginning of an anthology. “Tales from the Corner Cafe.”
    Very nicely told. I love the ending line. My father owned restaurants when i was a child and I remember how he became quite close to his employees and customers. This story stirred some pleasant memories for me. Thank you.

  6. Dear Janet,

    Needs needs nothing. It is as seamless as a story gets and I think it rivals the best you’ve ever served up to your patrons in Friday Fictioneers. Absolutely lovely. I used to wait tables and have to wonder whether you did as well. You learn some pretty good life lessons there. You nailed it solidly to the cafe wall, Janet.



    • I did, Doug, although I think at the time I tended more to the “callow waitress” side, as I was young and it was my first job (or first two). Now I would be much more like the narrator as I love to talk with people and enjoy their stories.

  7. Psychologist – love it. Kinda like a bartender, huh? Great take on the prompt.

  8. Tom Poet says:

    Great Job Janet! Loved this is one from you. I have never waited on tables but I have worked as a bartender. It’s the same idea, therapy for the cost of a beer (Meal). Well done.


    • Thanks, Tom. Phew! A long day–drove back from Chicago to Cleveland, was home for about 45 minutes, then went out again for the evening and just got home. Time to do tomorrow’s post and hit the hay. Glad you like the story and look forward to reading everyone’s (although I know I already read yours.)

  9. Linda says:

    Beautifully written and a great way to describe the way that a person’s life changes as they help change other people’s lives. I really enjoyed it, thanks for sharing it 🙂

  10. Anne Orchard says:

    Now that’s the kind of cafe owner anyone would like in their town. Very well told.

  11. brudberg says:

    Where can I find a cafe like this. Very nice.

    • Maybe we’ll have to start our own. 🙂 Thanks for coming by. I’m looking forward to reading your story and other tomorrow. Tonight I can hear by bed calling all too clearly.

  12. Wow, you captured a slice of life I know well. Waiting tables at a long time diner in town I had regulars,, whose life stories I knew,, and drop-ins dealing with excitement and tragedy. I had to gauge my actions on their needs. Yes, a booth has seen, and heard it all. 🙂

  13. Hi Janet,
    Great idea, adopting the point of view of the waitress, now owner. If cafe’s could only talk. No wait, you did it for them! Ron

  14. I love it. From waitress to owner, from taking tips to offering tips…

    I assume your place offers Sustainabili Tea?


    • It certainly does, Randy. It would be an impossibili-tea not to. But no more quips. I’ve just driven from Chicago to Cleveland today, been home for 45 minutes, gone out for the evening and arrived back home about 20 minutes ago. Sleep (and dinner) are calling me. Tomorrow I look forward to a tea-mendous time reading everyone’s stories. Always love to hear from you and look forward to reading your story. Sleep well.

  15. Soberly recounted and very realistic.

  16. Abraham says:

    Nicely done. Good contrasts. I particularly like “Eyes clinging and veering away.”

  17. Cindy Marsch says:

    I really like the energy of the cafe, and the narrator’s plainspoken admission at the end. I considered a restaurant possibility here, but I decided the photo looked more like a home of a certain kind, my in-laws’ kind, and so my story grew a different way. I think it’s interesting that yours is so bustling and mine is so still. I love this exercise every week! 🙂

  18. unspywriter says:

    Very nice. I already like this “callow waitress” (haven’t we all been one of those at one time?) and would like to read more!

    Here’s mine:

  19. Parul says:

    A very insightful protagonist. Wonder what she’d e like to meet in person. I for one would be interested in making an acquaintance.
    Nice work

  20. billgncs says:

    the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach. Is the doctor in? ( smile )

  21. Truer words — where would we be without diner therapy?

  22. Russell says:

    Your story is very similar to the preface of mine. My wife worked at the cafe in our small community. One of our neighbor’s wife was dying from cancer. He needed someone to talk to and it made her feel good that she could minister in that way. Lovely story.

    • Russell, your choice of the word “minister” (ministry) is right on target. There are people to whom other people can easily talk, whether in a cafe or elsewhere, and it’s a blessing. I’m sure that man appreciate your wife’s care and attention very much. I’m pleased to have evoked that image and feeling in your by my story.

  23. tedstrutz says:

    Touching… I have seen all that… in booths like that… I know what you mean… I loved the ending.

    here’s mine…

    p.s. the tapas sound good…

  24. This is sweet. And I agree with whoever said this sounds like the beginning of a very tender story.

  25. Lora says:

    HI Janet: Nice work. I see the connection betw. our stories. I was also a waitress here in NYC and saw it all. Thanks for stopping by and commenting.

  26. Perceptive and lovely piece.

    I’d certainly like to meet this woman. And complain about a lot of stuff to her too!

  27. vbholmes says:

    Any chance she shares fallen-arches and burned-thumbs stories with her fellow restaurant-worker customers? She needs a little give-and-take time for herself. Good story.

  28. A lovely life story. Thanks.

    • Thanks so much. I appreciate your time in reading and commenting. And of course, I’m always happy when someone likes what I’ve written. Makes the rainy, windy night on the fringes of Hurricane Sandy much nicer. 🙂

  29. summerstommy2 says:

    This is great Janet, its that old saying that if only the couch could talk. Very clever and well done giving the owner a sense of purpose in life when it appears she/he is in denial of their own needs.

    • Thanks. I don’t have a story this week. Vacation things are keeping me too busy, but thanks for reading my old post. That was one of my favorites, I think.