There was a new waitress at the ramen shop downtown. She immediately stood out from the personnel in the restaurant I considered my second home. When she came to take my order I asked for her name.
“I’m Hisae,” she said with a smile.
“Hisae, what a nice name, where are you from?” I asked, smiling back.
“I’m from Osaka, but I moved here a few months ago to be closer to my sister.”
“Listen Hisae, I don’t really care about your life story. I’m hungry as hell” I said, as I pounded my fist on the table.
“I’m sorry, what would you like to order?” she asked, seemingly unfazed by my rudeness.
“I’ll have the miso ramen with extra pork, and make it quick.”
I threw my hands behind my head, observing the other guests and watching Hisae report my order to the kitchen staff from the corner of my eye.
A few minutes later, my noodles arrived. I grabbed my chopsticks and started devouring the food. I hadn’t eaten all day and my stomach growled with pleasure.
“Are you sure you don’t want to add some more chili oil to your noodles?” Hisae asked, while I was busy stuffing my face with food.
“No, this chili oil ain’t that bussin” I said with a full mouth.
“I see. My sister loves spicy food, she could never understand how I could eat this much chili oil,” she said.
“Yeah, well, sounds like your sister has the better taste” I said. “Also, this is the second time you mention your sister, what’s the deal with her?”
Hisae was silent for a moment. Maybe I rattled her a bit.
“She’s my sister, I love her dearly” she said, after a while.
“I can tell, you mentioned twice already, jeez, consider that a tip for your service” I said, before dipping my face in the bowl and slurping the last noodles.
Hisae still gave me a blank stare, but I didn’t care. I tossed a 10,000 yen note on the table and got up to leave the ramen shop.
“See ya later Hisae, don’t mention your sister so much” I said, and left.