No Tomatoes, Please

"Excellent!" you exclaim. "Then you'll take the newer sedan with the stowaway seats, and you're still well within your original price range. Have a wonderful day, Mr. and Mrs. Henderson!" You smile and the newlyweds smile back, then move away to claim their new vehicle.

"Chelsea!" your uncle roars from his office. "Come here, I need to talk to you!"

"Yes, sir!" you reply, reminding yourself not to be nervous. He always roars, it's nothing to worry about. Nevertheless, the familiar sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach starts up as you head to the back of Price's Dealership.

“Close the door behind you, Chelsea,” says your uncle, leaning over his desk as you obey. He motions you to a seat and you perch on the edge of it, hands clasped nervously in your lap.

“I have to say, Chelsea,” he begins, “I never would have hired you if your mother hadn’t asked me to give you a chance. You’re timid, quiet, shy, and just about the least salesman-like of all my nieces and nephews.” Your face begins to burn, and you stare at your clasped hands.

“However,” you lift your head slightly. “I’ve been pleasantly surprised at how well you’ve been doing. You’re a natural at sales.” Your face burns more, but the sinking stomach begins to dissipate.

“In other words,” he continues, “you’ve got the job.”

* * * * *

Two hours later you’re done with your shift and on your way back home. You pull out your keys and open the door as your mom comes out of the kitchen.

“Chelsea, honey, how’d it go?”

“Great, actually. Uncle David said I’m a pretty good salesperson. He said I got the job.” Mom claps her hands.

“Oh, Chels, I’m so proud of you! You said you’d get a job by the end of the summer, and here it is June and you’ve already done it!” Your feel your face go slightly pink.

“Well, really, Mom, I owe it to you. I never would have had the nerve to ask Uncle David for a job. Thanks for going for me.” She waves her hand dismissively.

“Nonsense. I just paved the way, you showed him you have what it takes.” She comes over and hugs you. “This job is exactly what you need to help build your confidence. Come on into the kitchen and we’ll chat.” Your plans to go upstairs and shower suddenly take a backseat to Mom’s request.

“Alright, how can I help out with dinner?”

* * * * *

“Hey, sis,” said Kristen, entering your room and smacking her gum. “Can I borrow your green button-up this evening? I’m going to the movies with some friends and Brian’s gonna be there.” You open your mouth to acquiesce, but hesitate. You’d wanted to wear that shirt for your girl’s night with Mandy. Uncle David thought you were timid, but apparently not always. You’d sold that couple the nicer sedan, hadn’t you? You’d been firm, you could do the same with Kristen.

“Can I, Chels?” Kristen repeated from her seat on your bed. This was it; you were going to do it.

“Just make sure you don’t get popcorn grease on it, okay?” Even as the words came out of your mouth you were groaning inwardly. Why, why, WHY?! But it was too late now, Kristen was bouncing out of the room, cracking her gum, and tossing a casual “Thanks!” over her shoulder as she went. You fall on to the bed, groaning. Well, better luck next time.

* * * * *

At five in the evening you slide into Mandy’s car wearing a blue tank top under a white cropped jacket, rather than the much-regretted green button-up.

“Hey, Chels,” Mandy smiled. “You look great! I was thinking we could swing by Dave’s Pizza Parlor for dinner before our shopping spree, what do you think?”

“Sounds great,” you reply, a determinedly cheerful smile on your face. Inside, though, you cringe a little. There had been pizza at the office for lunch that afternoon, and more of it didn’t seem very appetizing at the moment. Mandy eyes you suspiciously. After a minute or two you start to squirm under her penetrating gaze. Mandy’s been your best friend since kindergarten, and she knows when you’re hiding something.

“Chels, I can tell you’re not interested in pizza today,” she prods, “what sounds good to you?” You squirm more and blush.

“Come on, Chels,” she says, “you know I’ll get it out of you eventually. I always do.”

“Ire eely chus wan am ber er,” you mumble. Mandy lifts an eyebrow.

“Didn’t quite catch that, Chels. Care to try again?” You take a deep breath and sit up straighter in your seat.

“I really kind of just want a hamburger. If that’s okay. Pizza’s good too, I had that for lunch, but we could do pizza if you really want to, it’s not a big deal.” Mandy laughs and shakes her head, turning the key in the ignition.

“Hamburgers it is, but I’ll spare you the agony of picking a restaurant, I know you like that place down on Cedar Street.” You sigh and settle back in your seat again.

“But don’t think this is over, I’m making you order for yourself tonight.”

* * * * *

Just say it, you silently reminded yourself. You knew you’d regret it if you didn’t. And Mandy would be bringing it up all night. She’d be right, too. Two more people ahead of you. Just say it. One more. Just say it.

“Hello, welcome to The Big One, what can I get for you tonight?”

“Uh, hello, um, I think I’d like a number seven, please. The combo.”

“Okay, will that be small or large, then?”

“Large, please.” Mandy elbows you in the back.

“Um, oh, yes, and . . . uh . . . could-you-leave-the-tomatoes-off-of-that-please?” The teenager in her paper hat types something on the computer in front of her and nods absentmindedly.

“Sure can, will that be all for ya?” Your heart soars.

“Yes, yeah, that’s all.” You’re only half listening as she gives you the total and you dig your wallet out of your purse to pay. You did it! You almost forget your drink cup as you leave the counter. You ordered, and you told them to leave off the tomatoes. You did it! Mandy walks over after placing her order and gives you a small high five.

“You did it, Chels! Good job!”

“I did, didn’t I?” you say, grinning wide enough the sides of your mouth hurt. You pick a table and wait for your number to be called, alternately grinning and sipping your soda.

“Number 46!” You jump up and grab the tray, Mandy’s order following right behind. You smile to yourself one more time and bite into the burger.

Oh. Oh no. That juiciness is there. You pull back and look at the burger in your hands. There’s a big, juicy, disgusting tomato right in the middle of it. A war rages inside of you. Do you bring it back? That’s allowed, you can just bring it up to the counter and they’ll make you a new one. But, is it worth it? Everyone will see you, will they think you’re too picky? Is it really that big a deal? Mandy is watching you, eyes narrowing. You smile weakly, pull the tomato off, and keep eating the burger. Mandy looks at you disapprovingly, lips pursed.

“What? I tried. Better luck next time.”