Narrative Essay On Sarah Osborn

Sarah Osborn was a dedicated young girl who had devoted herself as a waitress at a cheap American diner in the Queens for 2 years. When Sarah was young, her father owned a family restaurant in their hometown, Louisville, so she romanticized of being a chef. She cooked for herself every night after she got off from work. She learned dozens of different cuisines from the gourmet magazines and chef TV shows. Yet her job was still not easy because what she had to manage was not the flavor of the dishes, but the attitudes of moody customers. She had been asked by a young boy to sink a cheap plastic ring in a cup of mixed cocktail for a little girl, and another older man chose to embed his ruby rings into a velvet cake for his propose. There was

The plump fingers of the neon character was waving toward the black trickles that passing by. That night was supposed to be common, until the door opened unexpectedly. Sarah felt an abrupt surge of breeze seeped into her thin skin and froze her bones. She strained her shirt to keep the warm stream in her empty stomach. It was a mysterious man who provoked Sarah’s genuine curiosity when he wrapped both his fists with white duct tapes like a competitive boxer. There were greasy wounds glaring under the tape. The man was tall and fit even though he lowered his head and buried his body deep in a white, double-breast jacket. The jacket was a slim lead, but solid enough for Sarah to tell the man’s identity. He had spent years in the kitchen. It was late, at eleven o’clock. Only a doughy old couple who lived in the neighbor apartment were sitting near the window and spending their best effort to chew a piece of hard, bland turkey breast with their toothless gums. Yet the man still asked to be seated at a dilapidated booth in the most secluded corner, the place Sarah used to kill time with a cup of brewed coffee when there was no one to serve in the house. The man sat down quietly. Sarah noticed that he rolled his head a few times to inspect the cheap decorations on the yellow cinder block wall in the diner. He stopped his gazes at the shabby, scarlet window curtains for a