Hangry for some BLT

The mysterious motorcyclist stood there as literally everyone was looking at him, including our main female lead (FELICIA). He walks to the diner, passing everyone's gaze, either from hate or curiosity. The motorcyclist places his bike helmet on the empty stool on his right, as he sits down, wanting to order something. The waitress (CANDACE), who served Felicia a moment ago, approaches the mysterious figure dubbed THE BIKER.

CANDACE: Can I get you something- (She stops mid-sentence, noticing that he's a different race than her and her people in the Righty White Diner,)

THE BIKER: Yeah, I think I'm going to have the BLT with extra mayo, along with some of your freshest milk.

CANDACE: (softly) I'm sorry but everything here is for the customers only.

THE BIKER: Say that again...(notices her nametag) Candace is it?

CANDACE (more clearly) I said that everything here is for the customers only, sir. I apologize for the inconvenience.

THE BIKER: It's quite alright. I am a customer though, I have money with me to get by. (He even brought out a big 50 dollar bill to show her right there and then)

CANDACE: (shyfully) Right, I'll see what our cook will do for you.

THE BIKER: I appreciate it. Thank you.

Candace turns a 180 as she makes her way to the cook while The Biker continues to sit where he was at, while everyone remained staring at him. As anyone would be uncomfortable with this, The Biker was very calm and collective. He was determined to get something to eat and refresh from his biking exposition.

The waitress came back with the cook at the rear. She walks off to the side while the cook gets up The Biker's face.

THE COOK: Well, well, well, what do we have here? A black man coming into my diner without a collar nor any wristbands.

THE BIKER: Yeah, your point?

THE COOK: I don't know if you were born just yesterday but nowadays, we don't take kindly to any non-whites to go around, willy nilly.

THE BIKER: I see. I'm just here cause I've been biking for more than half a day. All I ask is just a sandwich and some milk, good sir.

THE COOK: (laughs hysterically) That's rich! A simple black man riding a motorcycle and for a half a day, you say? Why, escaping from your dear master?

THE BIKER: Ain't much to talk about.

THE COOK: Oh, playing it cool, I see. Well, listen up, wise guy, I got regulars that come here every single day. Regulars you are happening to see right now, in fact. They are very loyal to me. They'll do anything to make sure this place stays the way it is. I have the right to serve who I want to serve. And guess what, you're not one of them.

THE BIKER: All I want is something to refuel the tank. I don't want any trouble.

THE COOK: Should have thought of that when you came thought the door, boy.

THE BIKER: Don't call me that.

THE COOK: What? What are you going to do about it?

Just before the Cook was going to say "boy"...

FELICIA: (shouts) I can pay for him!

The two of them as well as the whole diner was now looking at Felicia, still sitting at her booth with a menu.

THE COOK (laughs more loudly) Please tell me you are joking, dearly. You can't.

FELICIA: I am not, and I can. It's a free country after all.

THE COOK: Yes, but take a good look at him, mis!

FELICIA: All I see is a human being who wants a BLT sandwich with extra mayo and a glass of milk after a long day. I couldn't blame him, I would too.

THE COOK: I'm sorry mad'am but I simply just can't serve a black person.

FELICIA: Then fine. I'll have 2 orders of BLT and 2 glasses of freshly milk.

THE COOK: You can't just-

FELICIA: Oh, don't mind me, I just order for myself.

THE COOK: (angrily and defeatedly) Fine, I'll make you that damn sandwich. Candace, give them their milks.

CANDACE: (obedient) Right! On it!

THE BIKER: You didn't have to do that.

FELICIA: I did and I would do it all over again.

The Biker grabs his helmet and walks over to her booth, sitting at the opposite. Felicia turns to see her mother completely oblivious as she is still on her phone, while this gentleman sits with her. Candace brings their milk to them as they both gave the waitress a thank you. There came awkward silence as people still continue to stare at the pair by the window booth. If their eyes has laser visor, their brains will cease to exist.

FELICIA: So...(trying to break the ice) You come here often?

THE BIKER: I'm not from around here. Just happen to stumble across this diner cause of pure hunger. I'm sorry to put you this such an uncomfortable position though.

FELICIA: It's quite alright. My mom and I also happen to find this place for me to eat. I can completely understand how the stomach can turn when it's getting hungry.

THE BIKER: Where's your mom?

Felicia tilts her head towards the window and the Biker looks the same direction. He turns back to Felicia and gives a half smile.

THE BIKER: Not hungry, I see.

FELICIA: Only for expensive shoes.

THE BIKER: Ah, I see. Your mother is one of those.

FELICIA: What does that mean?

THE BIKER: Sorry to over step. I mean that she's privileged.

FELICIA: You see that too.

THE BIKER: I'm just glad I ain't the only sane one here, Miss?

FELICIA: Felicia, and your's?

THE BIKER: Eric. Pleasure to meet you.

FELICIA: The same can be said with me.

There came some more silence as they two were now waiting for their BLTs. However, Eric the Biker was growing quite impatient about the whole thing.

ERIC: (stomach growling) Oh, why is it taking so long?

FELICIA: I'm sure they are almost done with it.

ERIC:It doesn't take this long to make a freaking sandwich though, especially a BLT.

FELICIA: You know, you are right. Let me see what's going on with the food.

Felicia then gets up as Eric remain sitting there, getting hungry by the minute. Felicia's mother was still in her own world as she was completely invested with her phone.

ERIC: (shut his eyes while mumbling) Probably charger in that car in case of emergencies.

POT BELLY: Excuse me, but we are going to ask you to leave, sir.

Eric opens his eyes to see a Flugelhorns with a pot belly standing in front of him. At the rear were a couple of his buddies with the same dumb hat.

ERIC: Please, gentleman. I'm just waiting for my sandwich.

POT BELLY: Oh, I got your sandwich right here. 3 exactly. Hope there's room for more than just one.

ERIC: (stands up) Now, you don't want to do that.

POT BELLY: Why, so you can make more room for dessert including with your girlfriend.

ERIC: (engaged) You leave her out of this.

POT BELLY: Oops, looks like a stuck a nerve there, lads.

Pot Belly's friends were giggling like a couple of hyenas there in the diner while everyone was watching, including Felicia as she came back from the kitchen.

ERIC: I ask you again. Please just leave me be.

POT BELLY: We ain't going anything, boy.

ERIC: What did you just say?

POT BELLY: Oh, I know how much you loathe that nickname. What was it again? BO-

Eric didn't let Pot Belly finish that sentence. For just before, Pot Belly could say the name, Eric sucker punched him out of commission. Now he's done. This is exactly what happens to Eric when he gets hangry.