Restaurant Kitchen Vignette

"You're married?" shrieked the annoying blonde girl. She spied his ring while he was getting a drink at the soda fountain; she had been refilling the pitchers with water. "Yeah," he said, rather annoyed. "What are you, like, twelve?" The look of incredulity on her face was baffling. "I wish," he chuckled. In an instant, he thought of what he was doing when he was twelve years old. No real worries. Will mom let me go to my friend's house to play Nintendo 64? I don't want to do homework. Maybe a few fears. I don't want to get in another fight. I wish my mom and sister would not fight so much. I hope I don't get suspended from school. "No, seriously, I thought you were, like, nineteen. How old are you?" she asked, almost spilling the pitcher of water over the ice. "Twenty-eight," he replied. "Oh, my God, wow," she said, walking back to the front to serve the customers.