Chapter 180: Emily Goes Out

Well that was a pretty good act.

While it hadn’t taken long to drop the girls off, Emily told me I needed to hurry because I was taking Emily to a school dance tonight, after dinner.

“David the nastiness that was inside me where we were at the hospital, this last time, was gone for good. Whatever Molly had in the injections, pills, and food has made me feel healthier than any time in my whole life,” Emily told me “Molly called mom to tell her a package was on the way for you while you took Cherry and Kitty home. It is my room waiting on you. Hurry and dress. We have dinner reservations at a big restaurant everyone going to this dance has tried to get a reservation. One a few managed to get a table. Everyone else gets their food at the other restaurants nearby and then eats at the outdoor tables to see who gets a table in the restaurant. It is kind of a tradition.”

As I dressed Mary asked, “So who exactly is this girl name Elena and why did she ask me to tell you that you had a table there anytime you wished to eat there?”

“Elena is another friend, who just so happens to be a girl, that I gave a ride home from the high-performance driving school we both attended over the summer. Passing all their courses was a condition to getting my driver’s license at fifteen,” I explained. “Her father owns prestigious restaurants, five-star hotels and exclusive resorts. He really likes that I don’t care that he, and his daughter, are extremely rich. Elena and I talked a lot on the drive back. So far, I’m the only person she has ever met that likes her for her, not her money. I know I won’t ever complain when they offer me a table at any of their restaurants any time I might want to eat there.”

They both wanted to know how well I got to know her, specifically if we had been intimate.

“Oh yeah, we fucked like rabbits on the entire drive home, anytime we stopped anywhere. We even did it right there at the table eating ice cream with her dad,” I replied.

Well we did fuck at the table with her dad sitting right there as we ate ice cream.

Emily put her hands up to make me stop causing her to laugh so hard. She didn’t ruin what little makeup she had on.

Now Mary insisted I take her car since it looked a lot better than mine, not that she didn’t trust that my car was mechanically sound and safe.

I smiled as I said, “Elena would be so mad at me if I did that. If we weren’t going to the dance afterwards, I would be wearing badly cutoff jeans and some horrid, band t-shirt to use to annoy their maître d’. They tend to be very snooty about how they expect people to look that get a table. Having a reservation there is purely for appearances. The place could be fully staffed and empty. Still they wouldn’t seat anyone unless they meet some arbitrary dress code. I’m sure the only time they are at capacity is on Prom night. I expect they jack up their prices for the few meals on their limited prom menu. If not for these places having bars, many would go under.”

“You know what, you’re right about that place. I never even realized it until you said that,” Mary replied. “Anyone dressed up for Prom always gets a table, provided they pay for their meals in advance, including a hefty gratuity. I was told you need not worry about the cost of your dinner, it is covered.”

This is going to be fun watching the bartender’s reaction to my credit card made of real gold.

After some obligatory pictures we headed out. The restaurant wasn’t far from the school. Most of the kid’s parents dropped them off near the restaurants and walked up to the dance.

That is a very nasty look you gave me for driving up in the Honda. I wonder if a fifty will change that person’s viewpoint.

Inside was what I expected. Some high school guys had on expensive suits and the girls were wearing last year’s prom dress. They were the only ones who had tables. None of them rated a booth. In the lounge were a few couples having sodas with buzzers on their tables that would never go off.

“We are going to play a little game here that Elena and I played at one of her dad’s other restaurants on our drive to her home,” I told Emily as I led her over to a table with bar stools over near the bar. “Just enjoy the show.”

First I went to the bar to request us sodas. The bartender was completely disinterested because two sodas cost right at five bucks with tax, so he wasn’t about to get a tip on them. When I did finally get his attention, I paid with the gold credit card. He became a lot friendlier then. He even asked if I wanted a little something added to our drinks.

“Some Grenadine if you don’t mind. That would be perfect,” I said.

Poking the bear, a bit more I dropped a twenty into his tip jar as he was handing me the drinks.

I made sure people saw Emily and I together. I made sure our sodas were before I went to wait in line to get us a table. I kept waiting to see if the bartender would notice our drinks were empty. When I finally got to the maître d’, we magically had refreshed drinks.

“Uh,” he sighed for effect. “I assume you want to request a table? Do you have a reservation?”

“Yes sir,” I replied. “I do in fact have a reservation. We are due at the dance soon, so I would appreciate it if we can be seated immediately. You have plenty of available tables.”

He did look very surprised to find I did indeed had a reservation. I knew Elena’s dad was using this as a test of his staff so I played along like I had no idea I was getting a private booth or room. The maître d’ was back to his snooty self as he handed me a buzzer and told me I would be paged when my table is ready.

Yeah. This is so not going the way you want. Asshole.

I went back to the table to find that our drinks had a tiny bit of cherry vodka, instead of Grenadine, added to them. It was actually nice to see Emily get a slight buzz while I didn’t feel anything.

For round one I told the place in my head to make me see the signals going into any of the same types of buzzers at restaurants around us. After I saw three go off, I was able to trigger ours. I went up to the maître d’ with the buzzer.

He showed honest surprise since these pagers are never set off to call someone back to get a table. I got a load of bullshit about the pager must have gotten triggered by one of the nearby restaurants, since they have the same types of buzzers. I set off each of the two replacement buzzers before I started activating random buzzers here. After the third time I took my buzzer up I told him to keep it, he could just come get us.

Like that is going to happen.

I found the bartender very helpful with getting me two more sodas, with more cherry vodka, which he added to my tab.

I dropped another twenty bucks into the tip jar and asked him, “Could to do me a favor and send the manager over to us? That maître d’ is being a serious dick. Can you believe he is so bored now that he is randomly paging people and then saying he didn’t? He did that to me three times already. I’m sure we have a reservation.”

It took about five minutes before a seriously annoyed man came over to our table, with an attitude like we weren’t worth his time.

“How may I help you, sir,” he asked despondently.

“Sir, we have a reservation. We have been paged three times only to be told the pager had to be broken as there were still no tables available,” I explained. “If you could please check my reservation, I would be greatly appreciative.”

I gave him my name and watched him head over to the maître d’.

They talked before the manager came back to tell me, “I’m sorry. It seems your reservation was made in error. You are free to wait for a table to open up. From the others in front of you, we expect you will be seated in about an hour.”

“Yeah. That is so not going to work for me. I think you might want to go double-check my reservation. I know it is there correctly,” I told him sounding very annoyed.

He started to get nasty when the bartender happily came over to give us more drinks.

Seems the bartender doesn’t bring drinks to tables. That is for the waitresses that have disappeared.

Whatever was said made the manager go back over to the maître d’. Neither were expecting the manager’s personal cell phone to ring. Both jumped when his custom fire alarm ring tone went off and scared the shit out of them.

I didn’t jump. I had emailed Elena the video Emily took of how they treated us so far. I knew the videos of no wait staff in sight wouldn’t get Elena’s father to call. I was pretty sure it was the pictures of a packed lobby and only a tenth of their capacity in use. None of the private booths were in use at all. I didn’t even know they had two, eight-person “private” dining rooms that were also unused. I made sure that they knew the dance started in under an hour. The maître d’ was saying the earliest any table would be available was in at least an hour.

“Please accept my sincerest apologies Mr. Jones. Per your request I re-checked our reservation system to find that your reservation was there you are said,” he said with much more respect than before.

I love that sour look, asshole.

The maître d’ wasn’t happy about taking us to one of the exclusive private dining rooms.

Poking the bear, a bit, I said, “It seems you need to call the tech support line for your reservation software. It appears there are a lot of messed up reservations given the number of available tables and packed lobby. Math isn’t my best subject, but I think I remember what a friend told me about restaurants. I believe she told me how expensive restaurants lose a lot of money due to snotty jerks deciding who they felt should sit at a table in that restaurant, but I may have misheard Elena. The kitchen was a bit loud. Her father also explained it to me, but not quite as nicely. I guess he can say whatever he wants about the restaurants he owns where the staff are losing him money by not doing their jobs by seating customers at the available tables. There was something I sort of understand. It seems that if you didn’t have a bar, the restaurant would never break even. Not that I expected you care in the least, at least as long as you get paid.”

He couldn’t see Emily, but I saw her showing surprise at the way I was going off on the manager.

Is he attempting to show me some respect, or is he just accepting that I’m telling him what he just heard from Elena’s dad? Or maybe it was the gold credit card with no limit that I could use to buy this place outright. Would Elena’s father sell it to me if I asked to buy it? Wait, why would want to buy it? I don’t know anything about running a business.

I noticed that we didn’t get the “kid’s menu” they had given the others out in the dining room. We put in our order and found we had two glasses of wine on the house.

This was Emily’s night, so I treated her like the most important person in the place. I gave her my arm as I escorted her to the women’s bathroom and the waited outside for her when she finished.

From where I was waiting it wasn’t hard to hear the catty comments of the girls being complete bitches to her. I did like how she flatly told them that each of them was getting their precious cherries popped tonight, whether they wanted it or not. Their dates would save them the trouble of having to call their girlfriends to let them know about it. The boys would dump them in Fakebook by the time the girls got to the bathroom to clean up. She made sure to tell them that they better have morning after pills because the boy’s condom would magically disappear between the time when they saw him put it on and when they got between their legs. The boy would only make that known after they had cum inside them.

The kicker was that the boys would be recording them having sex too. While the video they posted would be jerky, it would show enough to make there be no question the girls let the guys screw them.

“Well that guy with you is just going to fuck you too! You think he is going to spring for food in this place and go home with blue balls,” a snotty sounding girl asked.

Emily stood proudly in the open door as she turned to the girl and replied, “He had better. I expect we will go at it like rabbits all night, if he doesn’t wear me out. He is the boy that was a true friend to me when even I was sure I was leaving the hospital in a body bag. Everyone there knew I wasn’t going to be able to beat the cancer. Any time we were both in the hospital at the same time they would put us in the same room since it always gave me a reason to keep fighting to get better. Even when he was unconscious, he was a comfort to me when my mom could only be there on the weekends. I was so sick then and he was so nice when I climbed up into his bed to have a friend hold me as I waited for my body to finally succumb. He knew I was likely to die in his arms. When I said I wasn’t going to die a virgin, he worshipped my body like I was a goddess as we discovered all the ways he could bring me pleasure, never once asking for anything in return. See if any of your dates tonight are packing over eight inches of pure, unprotected, grade A++ beef? I know none of you will wake up in the morning with their arms around you and a dick buried inside you from where you both fell asleep screwing. I bet none of you are even on the pill. We all take gym together, so I know you finished your periods last week, just like me.”

She gave me a ten-thousand-watt smile as she took my arm to go back to our private dining room. As the door was closing, I heard a few girls, those with enough brain cells to do the math, realized that meant Emily was fertile right now, and so were they. Emily didn’t make an ass of herself about it, but she made sure everyone passing going to the bathrooms could see us sitting in the private dining room. Those not heading back to the lobby to wait were heading back outside like little children needing supervision to keep them out of trouble.

“This is turning out quite nicely,” Emily said as she pulled my hands up on top of the table so people would see us holding hands as the went past. “I know none of the kids here, not even the very rich ones, has ever eaten in one of the private dining rooms. We all thought these were reserved for only the most important people like presidents, kings, queens, and the Pope.”

I gave her hand a squeeze as I said, “You’re super important to me Emily. It just so happens that I’m important that really appreciates me being a good friend to his daughter. It probably doesn’t hurt that I let him know why this restaurant is losing money. Whenever anyone hears a rumor about him being in a town, the restaurants he owns are always close to capacity and their books show they are making money as they should.

Emily opened her mouth to say something when this waif of a girl went past on her way to the bathroom. She was holding the hand of a pimple-faced boy wearing the ugliest glasses available anywhere. I mean horribly bad. They were even worse than the military’s birth control glasses that people in the military say are so ugly that no woman, or man, would let you get into their bed if you wore them. Emily hurried out the door after them.

Our waitress popped in to ask if we needed anything while waiting on our food.

“Can you ask the chef to take what we ordered and make it a four-person family-style meal instead? I think we are about to have two more join us for dinner.”

“Well I don’t have to ask if you really know Elena or her father. She is such a doll, isn’t she? In the twelve years I have worked here, they’re the only ones who have ever asked for their meal to be family style. Are our other customers so unworldly that they don’t know that most restaurants, like this one, are setup to serve meals to big families? It makes no sense to pay these prices to get a child a plate of food where the kid picks out the few things they will eat and the rest is thrown out,” she asked. “Don’t worry, it won’t be any problem at all. You get much more food because it will be in big bowls instead of squished onto a small dinner plate. The people prepping will just have to deal with not having to try to make it look like a work of art.”

A few minutes later Emily walked in with the waif of a girl and pimple faced boy.

If I have few minutes I’m going to get rid of all of the bad zit causing bacteria in both of them. Well him at least. I think she would lose weight if any pimples went away.

“David, this is Tom and Lane,” Emily said making sure the girl was sitting across from her so that they could talk and make it easier for me to talk to Lane versus Tom.

Like it really matters what we say in here Emily. I expect this room is sound-proofed. Wait, what is that sound? Am I hearing more zits coming to a head on Tom’s face?

“I hope you two don’t mind sharing dinner with us. I asked them to make it family style for four. There is no way now for you to get your food ordered, eat, and still make it to the dance before it was over. That is assuming you managed to get a table here sometime this century. They are such snobs,” I said.

Tom went a bit pale before excusing himself to get some air. Emily grabbed one of the newly refreshed colas on her way out. They both had a good shot, or three, of cherry vodka. Seems I still had my running tab at the bar, so the drinks kept coming. We didn’t care much for the taste of the wine.

Lane was glancing at my untouched soda so I poured half of it into my quarter full one and slid the rest over to her.

“Sorry Lane, but that is all you get until you at least eat a little something,” I told her as I scooted my chair over a bit so I was facing her more. “If not for the straps and elastic at the waist, your dress would fall off. Plus, I don’t want you to puke all over your date at the dance. Tom looks like he might be a pretty decent guy. If he was one of the jerks I’ve heard about, then I would be all for making sure you puked on them. They don’t deserve to even feel you up much less any of the other things I hear they do with their dates.”