Clam Chowder | Teen Ink

Clam Chowder

January 22, 2010
By kostitsyn74cv SILVER, Hudson, Massachusetts
kostitsyn74cv SILVER, Hudson, Massachusetts
7 articles 0 photos 0 comments

“Um, I think I’m going to have the clam chowder, in a bowl dear,” Glenda whispered.

“I’m sorry ma’am, what did you say?” the waiter asked.

“I said I’ll have the clam chowder please. I’m the one with the hearing aid remember?” she repeated.

“I’m sorry, but we don’t make that here. This is Sophia’s Risoraunte, it’s a five star Italian restaurant,” he replied. Only this time, he was getting more and more aggravated.

“I came here to eat clam chowder, and all I see is wives rejected marriage proposals from their husbands. I didn’t come here to see couples fight. I don’t care if they were having issues and I don’t care if you’re an Italian restaurant or five-star or whatever mumbo-jumbo you insist on reiterating. Now, go to kitchen and tell your fancy chief to cook me up some chowder. Oh, and thank you,” She said.

“I’ll see what I can do ma’am,” He replied as he walked away in irritation.

Glenda sat there for at least five minutes before she realized the waiter was never going to come back. She felt somewhat abandoned like she always had been. She never intended on being the typical crabby old lady. And she was ninety-three. No ninety-three year old woman ever wants to be alone, in fear of what might happen next. Glenda always knew her every move was a surprise.

Within the next five minutes, she stared at the young family to the left. They were quiet, and barely talked to each other. But when the kids opened their mouths, they were arguing. And if they weren’t arguing, they were acting obnoxious for a five star restaurant.

To Glenda, it bothered her. She couldn’t believe how much things in this society had changed. She was never allowed to talk back to her parents, or argue as much as the family next to her. But then again, for Pete’s Diner back in the day, such manners were never mandatory. There is no respect for elders, Glenda would mumble under her breath. And for the next several minutes, she waited alone. She thought about the time her dog pulled the sled all the way to the convenience store to buy a gallon of molasses in the freezing weather, and the time her mom found out she was dating Bobby, or when she spent the whole night trying to help her daughter Emily go to sleep.

But it took a second for Glenda to realize the waiter she ever-so-gracefully bothered was on his way back. She put on a slight smile, and realized that even if they did make the cup of clam chowder, it would never be as good as the recipe her mom taught her growing up. The waiter mentioned, “The chief says that clam chowder is not on the menu, therefore, he can’t make it.”

Glenda rolled her eyes, and asked to see the menu once more.



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