Film Noir Coffee Scenes 01

Film Noir Coffee, part One

I was grey and foggy. It's always grey and foggy. This is Film Noir. I was sittin' at the bar nursing a double espresso. I had my jacket and hat on because it was grey and foggy in the café as well. There was a stainless steel demi cup in my hand, half full. The other hand had a smoldering cigarette. You could smoke in public here and nobody said nothin'. I was thinkin' about goin' home for the night. I had my fill of espresso and I was feelin' sloppy.

But then she came in the door. She didn't belong here. She was kind of girl you saw in a color film, dressed in white and teachin' Sunday school. A good lookin' Dame. She came over to bar and you could see her tremble. Morty came over to take her order. He held a dirty towel that had been cleaning the same coffee cup for hours.

He says too her.

"What'll you have?"

She placed lace covered hands on the counter for support.

The she blurted out.

"I want espresso, make it a double. I want hot and strong, and I want it now."

I gave her the once over twice. Nice gams on this one. I wonder where she got that trench coat. I may have to get one.

I took a drag from my smoke, squinted my eyes and spoke to her. (That's only way we talk here. Take drag, squint and speak.)

"What're doin' her Doll face? This ain't the kind place for dame like you. Ain't no Toasted White Chocolate Mocha's here? Guys come here to drink espresso and they drink until they can't see straight. You better leave while you can Doll face."

She looked at me with a look that said.

"Shut up you smoking clod."

Morty brought her espresso. She held it both hands to steady herself. Then, in one fluid movement, she knocked it back, slammed the cup on counter and said to Morty.

"Another double!"

She said in a breathless way that made her chest heave up and down and my eyeballs jiggle in their sockets. I took another drag and squinted.

She was better after the first double. I figure someone had done her wrong. Real wrong to bring her to a place like this. Dames like her don't come here unless it's bad. Morty brought her second espresso. She was slower with this one.

I took another drag and squinted.

"How about it Honey, you gonna talk?"

She gives me a look that says.

"Why are talking to me you squinting idiot?"

The rest of her espresso goes down her throat. She turns and walks out of the door and out of my life. The grey and fog took her in. It was good while it lasted. I watched her 'till I couldn't see no more. I swiveled on my stool. I took out another smoke and lit it. A big drag and a squint.

I said.

"Hey Morty, another double espresso."

The fog and rain got worse in the café. It was gonna be another long one. I need a trench coat.

Scene Two

I spent a lot of time in the Café. I mean a lot of time. It was less grey than my office and less gloomy than outside. But this is Film Noir. That's the way it is here. Besides, my secretary Blanche was at the office. Should any business turn up or I get a private detective job, Blanche would call here.

She was a nice girl Blanche. Couldn't make coffee though. That's why I was here all the time. Sometimes, you need espresso, and I needed it all the time. Morty, the guy that owns the place, keeps my cup full of espresso. He has this towel in his hands. Been cleaning the same cup for as long as I've known him. That's about a decade. Yeah, a decade of espresso.

So, I'm drinking espresso this afternoon. Business wasn't slow for me, it was nonexistent. Lucky Morty lets me run a tab. I'm sittin' there thinkin' about how I am gonna pay for this. Then, she comes in the joint. Her name is Bridgette. I have known her for some time. You know, in the Biblical sense. Bridgette has some really good assets. She knows how to use them. She knows how to use them on me.

Today, them assets is on display. That red dress she's wearin' hugs her like a second skin. The front plunges low enough I'm pretty sure I could see her navel if I stood on my toes. When Bridgette does this, I sweat a lot.

She comes up to the counter where I am. Them curves slide against me and I know what's comin'.

"Rick," she says. "I could really use a double espresso. Do think you could get me one?"

Bridgette used that voice that made me feel all warm and fuzzy. It also turned my brains into red jello. And not all of me turned to jello. Perfume filled my head and made me stupid. If she asked me to rob a bank and kill people, I would have said yes. One of her hips pressed against my leg.

"Morty!! Can you bring Bridgette a double espresso please?"

Morty grunts, shakes his head and makes her coffee. He has seen her do this to me a hundred times. Morty slides her espresso in front of her.

Bridgette says.

"Thanks Morty."

All she does to me is put one hand on my leg. Why is it so hot in here? The demitasse cup goes in slow motion to ruby red lips. I had to pull out my handkerchief to wipe the drool from my lip and chin. While she's drinking espresso, her hand never leaves my leg. But her face doesn't show anything.

Bridgette drinks espresso in a way that's slow and sexy like nobody I seen before. Makes ya wonder how you could drink coffee any other way. Of course, if we all drank coffee that way, nothin' would get done.

The empty cup goes to the counter and Bridgette says in a voice that's breathy and drips of sex appeal.

"Rick, do you suppose I could have another?"

I look to Morty who is already makin' her another.

He just shakes his head. The second one arrives and she takes her time with it. Bridgette makes sure I see every little movement and sip. The way she licks her lips makes me want to lick them too. After what seems to be hours, Bridgette finishes the espresso. The cup goes to the counter. Bridgette leans in and leaves that lipstick on my cheek and says,

"Thanks Rick, I really needed that."

Then the red dress and those heels glided out the door. Morty stood there and shook his head.

One word out of his mouth.

"Sucker."

The phone rang. It was Blanche at the office. I had a job.

Morty adds,

"Maybe you can pay for all this espresso now?"

Scene Three

It had been three weeks since I saw her last. The rain and fog seemed to increase daily. But that's how it is here in film Noir. My suit was wrinkled, and I needed a clean shirt. The front of it was stained with espresso and cigarette ash. I smelled about as fresh as the nine full ashtrays in front of me. My hat had sweat stains all the way around. Maybe I should have it cleaned.

Maybe I should go home, have a bath and change of clothes. Maybe after another espresso and smoke. I takes one out, light it, take a pull and squint. Yeah, just like every other day in Film Noir. Someday, I gotta look into moving to color movies.

Morty brings me another espresso. He just shakes his head. That's usually all he does. Haven't heard him speak ten words in as many years. A couple drops of espresso slop onto the counter. I strongly considered leaning down and sucking up. Don't want to waste it you know.

Instead, I mop it up with my fingers. Then I greedily suck and lick the dark liquid from my hand. There was an interesting blend of cigarette and coffee. I kind of liked it. Then I sipped my way through the demitasse cup. I had to get going. I was working today. Yeah, I knows what you're thinkin'. Him? Work?

I stumbled out into the fog and rain. My coat wrapped around me against the weather. The fog was thick and the rain cold. I keep thinking about how bright and sunny it is in color film. I shivered. It didn't matter. I had to make money.

A guy had paid me to see if his wife was cheatin' on him. She was of course. She paid me more to hide it. Her boyfriend was a football player. Apparently, he had all the right bulges in all the right places. The two of them could be heard screaming plays and tackling all night long. Sounds like everybody scored.

In the morning, it took five housekeepers to clean up the place. Talk about "rough sex". Broken lamps, torn carpet, broken bed frames and scratches on the walls. You don't even want to know about the sheets. Oh yeah, and jello on the ceiling.

I knew this would have to end at some point. I was making a lot money and the husband was gettin' suspicious of my draggin' things out. Fun while it lasted. I made a note to bill the guy for a full day. I'd make up some fake notes about her doing some shopping and hangin' out with girlfriends. I shuffled home to change into something slightly less soiled and wrinkled. I looked in the mirror at home. I needed a shave and bath. As bad as I wanted to get back to the Café, I needed to clean up more.

I peeled off my clothes and ordered them to the hamper. They went without argument. I soaked in the tub until the grime floated off. Then I scraped the fur from my face. Once I felt clean, I got out to dry and dress. Clean shorts and undershirt. An unstained white shirt and suit that I had picked up from the cleaners last week. A bit of Old Spice and I felt like a new man. Gotta get the hat cleaned though.

I stepped outside. Yup, still foggy and raining. I made my way to the Café and there stood Morty. As soon as he saw me, he began preparing my espresso. He knew my habits. The double espresso slides in front of me with a clean and empty ashtray. I was in the money. So Morty keeps bringing espresso before the last one was done. The empty cups became a stack in a tree shape on the counter.

I twitched off and on from the caffeine. My pupils were dilated in my eye sockets. I could see the fleas on the mouse in the corner of the Café. I could also hear the cockroaches in the basement playing five card stud. One of them was losing a lot money.

The bell on the door of the Café rang because someone came in. It sounded like church bells in my head. Bridgette wiggled and bounced up to the counter.

She spoke.

"Rick, could you get me a double espresso?" She purrs.

Before I could answer, her hand comes up to grab my ass cheek. My eyebrows shot up to my hairline. I wanted to answer in a deep masculine voice.

All that came out was a high squeaky.

"YES."

Morty shook his head and shuffled off to make the coffee. Bridgette removed her hand and my eyebrows returned to normal position.

She spoke.

"Rick, I gotta favor to ask. I gotta leaky faucet at the apartment. Could you come and fix it?"

About that time, she slipped her hand into my trousers and started playing pocket pool. My eyes crossed and began to bounce in my head like a pinball machine. Meanwhile, Morty arrives with her espresso. She sips it like nothing abnormal is going on.

I don't remember answering her question, but she says.

"Shall we go?"

I followed. We walked to her place. About fourteen blocks. Then in the entry way and to the elevator. We was alone in the lift. She took up pocket pool again and got the same results. By the time we got to the fifth floor, I had forgotten my name.

We goes into her place. It's small but nice. Bridgette marches me right into the kitchen.

"Just look at it." She says.

I asked if she had any tools. I get handed a large pair of pliers.

Then she adds.

"I'm gonna go change Rick."

She pivots and head to her bedroom. A flurry of skirt. I poke my head under the sink. There is something moving in here. Some slimy green creature from a horror movie. How I know it's green in a black and white film is beyond me. I beat it back with pliers and a small plunger. Then I see the leak. A couple of twists and the flow stops.

I'm feelin' pretty good about my handyman skills. I roll out from under the sink and on to the floor. There stands Bridgette in the kitchen doorway. She is backlit by the living room light.

Bridgette's got on one of those pink Maribou loungy ree things. It's transparent with pink fur around the edges. She still got her stockings on and clear high heeled slippers with pink fur on the ends. Don't ask me how I know it's pink. I notice her nipples and areola are staring at me like they are as surprised as I am.

Bridgette purrs in her best sex kitten voice.

"Like what you see Rick?"

My eyes pan up and down her. Yup! Them legs go all the way up. Bridgette has on matching panties. Kind of looks like there might be a fuzzy squirrel in them. The sight of her has all the right parts of me excited.

"Stand up Rick." Bridgette blurts out.

So I do and she proceeds to undo my trousers and pull my shirt out. Glad I bathed and changed. The trousers fall to my ankles and my boxers' tent out.

Bridgette adds.

"Oh, let's see what's under here."

The boxers join my trousers.

"I gotta a rubber right here." She says.

And she pulls it out. I can't figure out where she kept it. The nightie don't have no pockets that I can see.

"I'll put it on for you." She continues.

The rubber goes on my thing and Bridgette tries to unroll it. But it won't do it. She keeps going up and down with her hands trying to get the rubber on. It must be inside out. A few more minutes of this and I don't need the rubber anymore. My stuff is all over Bridgette's hands.

"Well that's disappointing." She whimpers.

All I can say is.

"sorry Doll face."

Bridgette sits on the floor all pouty in her nightie.

Then her face lights up and she says,

"I got an idea Rick. You lay down on the floor."

So I do. Bridgette stands her panties fall to the floor and she slips out of them. That ain't no squirrel. She places her body above my head and squats down. I get a mouth full of Bridgette. She begins to ride my face. It was slow and nice to start with. Bridgette lets out some soft moans. Bridgette tastes pretty good, just a tad salty. This is enjoyable and I reach up to take her hips in my hands and help her move.

Bridgette becomes more aroused and leaned forward slightly. I couldn't breathe. I would have told her but I didn't have the opportunity or the air. Bridgette begins to bounce up and down. Now the back of my head was hitting the floor to the rhythm of Bridgette. I was running out of air. The possibility of death from asphyxiation or head trauma ran through my mind. But then again, what a great way to go.

Bridgette was moving frantically now. It sounded to me as though she was speaking a foreign language. Maybe Chinese? My head was really hurting and my vision was beginning to fade. Suddenly she sat very still and let go an ear piercing scream. I figure the cops will show up any minute.

Her thighs squeezed my noggin till I thought she would crush me like a melon.

Then, she relaxed and rolled off of me. Bridgette was all out of breath and giggling. I was sucking the deepest breaths possible and as quickly as possible.

She laid there on the kitchen floor next to me. I was still gasping. Bridgette produced a smoke from somewhere and lit it. She took a long pull and slowly let it out. Then Bridgette rolled on to her side and put the smoldering stick to my lips. I took a drag and it made me cough. Also, I became aware of the sensation of cold linoleum on my ass.

Bridgette says.

"That was really great Rick. Thanks for fixing my sink. I'm gonna go shower and hit the sack. Let yourself out would ya?"

Then she gave me a peck on the cheek and was gone.

So there I was. My trousers and boxers around my ankle, naked on a cold floor. At least Bridgette left me the cigarette. Jeez did my head hurt. It was kind of like a couple of guys had worked me over in an alley or something. Yeah, that's happened.

I sat up and then stood, pulled up my pants and put my shirt on. I could hear Bridgette singing in the shower. I put my coat and hat on. The door was pulled shut and I made sure it was locked. The elevator ride down was swift enough. Soon I was out on the sidewalk in the fog, dark and rain. Film Noir, you gotta love it.

I don't remember heading anyplace in particular.

Found myself in front of the Café. What the heck, may as well go in and have an espresso. Morty stood there behind the counter. Does that guy ever leave? He takes a look at me, shakes his head and makes me an espresso.

Morty says just one word.

"Dames."

I just nod in agreement. Just then, it got a little foggier in the Café.