This is the second half of the story. The first half is here.
“What are you going to do? You don’t know anything. Typical women. You know nothing.” The waiters taunt her.
“Idiots like you never listen to women. Of course you think women know nothing. But I guess the police will be interested to know what I want to tell them. They will be interested in listening to me. Is today a big day for you? I guess you are all very excited. Now I am going to go back to my seat and I expect a bill with the correct number. You understand? If not, you know what I am going to do.” Nali says.
“Don’t listen to her. She’s bluffing.” One of them says.
“I am definitely not.” Nali says and extends her hand, “give it to me. I can calculate much better than you can. I guess it’s your lucky day today, but you are in dispute about the money, aren’t you?”
The waiters fall silent. This is the first time that, since she stepped into the restaurant, they start to regard her not as a dismissible, immoral, ridiculous sub-human, but rather somebody who might be dangerous. Nali enjoys this change–a dangerous woman is a real human, an obvious elevation of status.
She sits there and expects the bill to come any minute, but it’s not coming. She waits and waits, then suddenly Daju emerges. He is wearing his jacket on top of his pajamas.
“I thought you went home. What an interesting outfit.” Nali says, half jokingly.
“You are not going to do anything rash, are you? I mean I don’t believe you are going to call the police, but I don’t want to risk it. Brother Wing, the owner of the restaurant, telephoned me and I come as quickly as I can.” Daju says breathlessly.
“So you were about to go to bed? You could have just called me.” Nali says.
“Go to bed? This is my working pajamas. I have all kinds of business to take care, phone calls to make. Tenants, employees, temp workers, state and federal taxes. You think making money is so easy? You women know nothing about business.” Daju says.
“Well, tenants? You are also a landlord?”
“Of course. I also own 20% of this restaurant. This is upstate New York. One has to diversify one’s business. Otherwise one won’t be able to survive. And this restaurant is not doing good. If we have enough patrons, we don’t have to resort to this. But we don’t. We are just being creative–finding ways to make some money.” Daju says.
“You stop this practice, because you are going to get caught. I won’t report you, but please stop it right now. It is so obvious that people are not just doing restaurant business here. How much do a bookie earn from sports betting? Is it a misdemeanor or a felony?” Nali says.
“Keep it quiet. We only do it in our own community and with really reliable people.” Daju says.
“You are joking, right? There will be money dispute constantly. How can you keep it quiet? One day somebody will be angered and disgruntled. And he will call the police.” Nali says.
When Nali quits the restaurant and drives to Mi’s place to spend the night, she thinks about Daju and she sighs. Why Daju would do such a thing? With his ability and diligence, he can obviously make a living in other ways. Why people do things like this? Money really looks more important than it really is.