Wives and sweethearts packed off to a hen’s do they’d been champing at the bit to attend all night, the Arab boys were now getting boisterous. My internal radar was on alert, especially when Billy reached Jameel’s booth. There was a stilted conversation about the quality of the food and the enjoyment level of the evening. I was beginning to relax by the time Billy started to move on. Then it happened.
Jameel knocked his coffee spoon on to the floor, a deliberate act. He turned to Billy, smiling. “Oops! Do you mind?”
Billy was mortified. “I’ll get you a new one.” Jameel stopped him. “Nah, don’t worry. Just see if you can find the one under the table. I’ll clean it off.”
Billy looked uncertain. “You sure?”
“Isn’t the customer always right?” He laughed. Billy kneeled down, disappearing under the table. Gil attempted to distract my attention by asking how I enjoyed working for the company. I bullshitted as best I could, not bothering too much about what I was saying as he had no intention of employing me again, and watched the next booth without letting on I was doing so. The men were nervous, often glancing my way as if checking on my apparent ignorance of their plan. I should have known they’d wait until their women had been dismissed for the night.
Billy was nowhere to be seen. I noticed Jameel slumping in the booth, his hands hidden beneath the table, his head thrown back, and a grin a mile wide on his lips. His mates were watching him nervously, but enviously. Something bumped the underside of their table, followed by the distinct sounds of gagging. Jameel suddenly opened his eyes, staring straight at me, totally unembarrassed, his lips parted in a silent groan and his body juddered almost imperceptibly. Suddenly Billy appeared from under the table and handed Jameel his spoon. ‘Thanks, Billy. Great service. I’ll have to recommend this place to a couple of buddies of mine.”
Billy glanced at me sheepishly. “Great. We need all the business we can get.”
“Oh, they’ll give you the business all right.” Jameel looked at me. “Billy has certainly spiced up this place, Steve.”
“Yeah, I’m proud of him,” I replied.
“Really. Surprised to hear you say that, man,” he said,
“Why’s that?”
“Just thinking that all the servicing he’s doing here, can’t leave much time for you.”
Billy looked as if he was pleading with me not to cause any trouble.
Just then, Fadi’s spoon slipped to the floor.
“Ah, Billy, you mind, mate? It’s easier for you.”
“Sure,” Billy glanced at me, guilt all over his features, and then bobbed under the table.
Jameel dug the knife in. “Billy sure is eager to please, Steve. A regular little service whore.”
Fadi didn’t last long. He gave a loud gasp that had people on the dance floor turn in his direction, before he sort of collapsed in a heap.
Billy duly scrambled out from under the table and handed the spoon to him.
Omar didn’t even bother disguising what was going on, just tossing his spoon in the air. It landed on the edge of the table. “Hey, Billy,” Omar said. “Spoon.” Billy looked at it. I could tell he was agonising over whether he should keep up the charade and knock it onto the floor or just slip under the table and blow his tormentor. He looked at me, guilty as hell, saw how disappointed I was that he would humiliate the two of us by sucking off my sworn enemies in public, then got on with the task at hand, leaving the spoon where it lay.
