There Is No Band-Aid For Lies

(In this story, I am only thirteen years old. I have just fallen and scraped my arm a few minutes ago, and I am still bleeding quite a bit. After making an emergency bandage out of a napkin and a few rubber bands to catch the blood, my family and I go to a restaurant. It is worth noting that earlier that day, I got hit in the eye with a beach ball, dropped my tray at lunch, and had a panic attack in the middle of class. In other words, so far my day has sucked, and I’ve about reached my limit. I hate unsweetened tea with a passion, but love sweet tea, and I have a killer death glare, even without meaning it.)

Me: “I would like an iced tea, please!”

Waiter: “Okay!”

(The waiter brings out a tea, and I start to drink it, only for my face to crumple in disgust. I was unaware that they did not have sweet tea. I’m not usually one to tear up over a mistake in my order, but this is my last straw. I start crying. My mom immediately notices what’s wrong. As she fixes the mistake and gets me a diet soda, instead, I accidentally glare at the waiter. He is obviously quite scared by this point. We get our food, and I find mine disgusting.)

Me: “Uh, sir, my food doesn’t taste quite right. Is there lettuce or tomato on this?”

Waiter: “I-I think so, ma’am. I’m sorry.”

(He tries to resolve it, but it’s no use. After taking in all that’s happened that day, I start crying again and accidentally give the waiter one of my famously intimidating death glares. After resolving the issue as quickly as he can, he runs off to get his manager. I think nothing of it, until…)

Manager: “One of you apparently threatened to kill my employee over a mistaken order. Which one of you did it?”

Waiter: “It was the little one in the corner, one her phone! She threatened to kill me!”

(My family is extremely confused, because none of us are that kind of person, especially not me. I figure out what he is referring to after a few minutes.)

Me: “I’m sorry for the misunderstanding, sir, but your employee must be mistaken. I did accidentally glare at him after my order was messed up a few times, but I never once threatened to kill or otherwise harm him. I’ve had a rough day, and my arm is still bleeding from an earlier incident. When I cry, which I did, I do tend to glare by total accident. Again, I am sorry for the misunderstanding. If you wish to file this under anything, my name is [My Name].”

Manager: “Ah, I see. No verbal threats, [Waiter]?”

(The waiter shakes his head, but then bursts out once more.)

Waiter: “She obviously wanted to kill me, [Manager]! Isn’t that the same as a death threat? Plus, she’s probably just exaggerating for attention.”

(Furious, I hold up my elbow with its makeshift bandage in its full glory, blood and all. It is almost soaked by now, but the bleeding has stopped.)

Me: “Pal, I don’t think that I was exaggerating. This is just a little of what I’ve gone through today. I’m sorry for scaring you, but there is no need to overreact. Personally, I think that even when scared, your service was quite good, and I was planning on asking for the manager to compliment your wonderful service in the face of a girl who was crying her eyes out over a simple mistake. I’m sorry for the trouble, [Manager], was it?”

Manager: “It’s fine. This is the third time this week that he’s done this. Thank you for remaining calm. Also, would you like a real bandage?”

(After I confirmed that it was probably a good idea, he went to get one, telling the waiter to meet him in his office. It turns out that the manager’s daughter went to my school, and was one of my good friends. His daughter had told him about what had all happened that day, and he was extremely sympathetic towards me for it. His daughter and I are still good friends to this day, and he and I joke about this incident quite a lot now. He also asked me how I remained so calm, to which I replied, “I’d already dealt with enough crap that day, and that was nothing to me.”)