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Creative Writing: Ruth's Chris Steak House

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On June 8th, at exactly 8:00 P.M, I stepped out of my Corvette and handed the keys to the Valet Parking man and walked in to Ruth’s Chris Steakhouse, the place where my parents had gotten engaged at. “Do you have a reservation, ma’am?” Asked the man at the front desk. “Yes, it should be under the name Taylor Schmaltz.” I replied, looking around. “Party of 5? Very well, follow me,” He led me to a table in a room I had reserved for my party. Ruth’s Chris might seem like a place where people are sloppy and chewing their meat with their mouths’ open, but it is actually a place where anyone who is not in suit and tie or a nice dress is out of place. I waited for less than a minute when I saw a woman with a huge, fluffy white wig and a long …show more content…

We talk a lot.” Poppy smiled widely. A little too widely. Man, that woman has problems. “So, does anyone else want mash potatoes?” I asked, trying to get back on subject. “Whatever you have I’ll have.” Harvey answered, looking into my eyes. I looked away, blushing. Marie broke our awkwardness by blurting, “I love food so much! Don’t you know? Why else would I shine so radiantly?” “Maybe because you're sweating because your body weight is so much?” Homer muttered. Out of nowhere, Marie pulled out a fan and slapped Homer across the face. He was fine, so he turned to Poppy and they started a small conversation, and eventually Marie Antoinette joined in too. I ended up talking to Harvey by myself, so we just talked about school, his tour, and my part-time job as an animal rescuer. After almost 30 full minutes of talking, I could hear all of my guests’ stomachs growling Thank the heavens, the food came. Everyone seemed to be enjoying the food, especially Marie and …show more content…

And eyes.” Poppy was saying as she chewed. She then began crossing her eyes and pretending to be a steak. I’ve said it a million times and I’ll say it again: That girl has problems. That’s when Marie started laughing so much she slapped Poppy on the back. Poppy dropped her purse and as she went to retrieve it, I thought I saw the faintest silhouette of a gun in her purse. Stop it, I told myself. Poppy’s harmless, right? She straightened up and then looked straight at Harvey, then turned away to look Marie straight in the eye. I swear, they both winked at the exact same time. “Can we get a chocolate cake, deary?” Asked Marie in a honey-sweet tone. “I’ll pay for it,” Harvey intervened. “It’s the least I can do for such an amazing host.” He winked at me. Harvey got a waiter and asked for the biggest chocolate cake they had. When the cake arrived, I gasped and so did everyone else at the table except for Homer, who went, “What? Is there a fire? Is Celine Dion here? What’s going on?” I stood up and cut each of my guests a piece and they each were enjoying their cake. That’s when, once again, Queen Marie and Poppy made eye contact, but this time they both stood. I was confused so I waited for them to say

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