Merry people and clinking glasses. They all get tuned out when the blood rushes into my ears. A flash of red fills my vision and I have to remind myself to count to ten. Slowly, I start to calm down and I feel a wave of serenity wash over me. “Waiter!” someone somewhere in the distance calls. I plaster a smile on my face and walk in the direction of the voice. It all started during a Red Cross event at the Saint Dunston Crab Dinner. I volunteered along with a few of my friends, but we ended up getting separated into different groups. I was assigned to manage two tables, lending a helping hand to the waiters and expediting the process of serving food. When the whole group split up, I was able to confer with the two waitresses that I would be helping for the night. Luckily, we were able to come up with a plan that would be suitable for all three of us: I would take half of both tables while they handled the other side of the table.
Everything was running smoothly until a person from one of the waitresses’ side called me over. I scrambled over to the opposite table and there, he asked where their food was. I was completely bewildered. The food was…show more content… At an interval of time where people were either dancing or watching contently in their seats, I was able to give my aching feet a rest. When my friends approached me and saw my face scrunched up in anger, I heatedly reiterated my story to satisfy their curious questioning. We furtively glanced around the room to find the villain of the story. We finally found her talking to what looked to be her sister. My anger combined with the heat quickly sparked as I determinedly strode over to the pair. I stood face-to-face with her as I felt my friends flank me in a sign of support. The tension radiating off of us was so thick you could cut it with a knife. She had obviously talked to her sister about me and I was obviously simmering with
