Third Try:

Phillip peered at the server’s badge. Moe.
“So what’s yer problem?” The server said as he bent to clean up the spilled drink.
“I’m clumsy. OK?” Phillip shot back.
“Clumsy doesn’t describe it, pal.” Moe said as he scurried away with the now-empty glass and a towel dripping with iced tea.
Philip turned his head to glare at the server’s retreating back, then looked down at his hands. They seemed normal to everybody else. But to Philip they felt like two anvils. He flexed the fingers of his right hand. Everything worked, but slow, so slow.
Bah. Lunch is over, he thought. He got up to leave, enduring the scowl on Moe’s face. As Philip walked past Moe, he casually brushed his hand across the server’s leg. Moe immediately bent over to grab his now-quivering thigh, falling to the floor, moaning.

Second Try:

Phillip peered at the server’s badge. Moe.
“So what’s yer problem?” Moe said as he scurried away with the now-empty glass and a towel dripping with iced tea and melting ice.
“I’m clumsy, obviously,” He shot back.
“Clumsy doesn’t describe it, pal.”
Philip looked at his hands. They seemed normal to everybody else. But to Philip they felt like two anvils. He flexed the fingers of his right hand. Everything worked, but slow, so slow.
I’ve had enough, he thought. He got up to leave, enduring the scowl on Moe’s face. As Philip walked past him, he casually brushed his hand across the server’s leg. Moe immediately bent over to grab his now-quivering thigh, falling to the floor, moaning.

Original:

“So what’s yer problem?” Moe the server said.
“Sorry, I’m clumsy.”
“Clumsy doesn’t describe it, pal” he scurried away with the now-empty glass and a towel dripping with coke and ice.
Philip looked at his hands. They seemed normal to everybody else. But to Philip they were two anvils. He flexed the fingers of his right hand. He turned his wrist, looking at his palm. Everything worked, but slow, so slow.
When he was finished with lunch. He got up to leave, enduring the scowl on Moe’s face. As Philip walked past, his hand brushed Moe’s leg. Moe immediately bent over to grab his now quivering thigh

I am looking for a few readers.

[This message has been edited by Owasm (edited March 14, 2009).]

The first few sentences take a while to establish who is the MC. I thought it was Mo for a second.

Could that first sentence have an action by Mo to let us know what is happening - (Mo the server said, mopping the coke from his shoes...) It would establish some action right away but then again, may increase the MC confusion...

If you cut "the server" and use it just before Mo scurries away, it might help to clear up the start. I think not attributing Philips first line to anyone also blurs things. Why not have him looking at his hands there?

Ie. - Philip looked at his hands. "Sorry, I'm clumsy."

"...describe it, pal” he scurried..." - you need some punctuation or caps in the middle here.

The image of his hands as two anvils is intriguing but not very clear. Are they heavy? Immoveable? Being hit with hot hammers? I didn't get a very clear sensory impression there.

"When he was finished with lunch." - This isn't a sentence.

Is his hand brushing Mo's leg deliberate? If not, it is a bit weak. I could do with Philip being a bit more proactive by now. It also sounded slightly like a pickup.

If it is deliberate, it would be good to see that more clearly.

Could he be finished with lunch already and be on his way out? Or show how having anvil hands affected his fork management skills? Dropping that lunch in there slows us down a bit.

This was the most interesting sentence to me. "Everything worked, but slow, so slow."

I hope some of this is useful,

Dame

I restructured the phrasing and added a new opening sentence.

I also added the rest of the last sentence for clarity of the action... although Kathleen might chop it back off.

Just my two cents. Hope it helps.
Denem

"So, like, what's your problem?"
Philip peered at the other man's badge. "Let me tell you like it is, Moe. I'm clumsy. So why don't you build yourself a bridge and get over it." He let the snarky tone slide out on his tongue with his words, although the truth of the matter being, he was tired."
"Clumsy doesn't even begin to describe it pal."

I took some liberties of my own with this, trying to insert where I thought Philip might be coming from.

I liked your treatment and modified my beginning to make who's saying what more clear.

The dialogue is choppy on purpose, but perhaps not as artfully done as it should be. It's meant to be terse, as it continues that way in the rest of the story.

Anyway, the hook for me was when Phil regards his hands being like two anvil, then of course the brusing of one of them agains Moe's thigh.