I walked into the diner that night expecting a simple cup of lousy coffee and a ham and cheese sandwich with stale bread. It suited my mood for the day. It had been raining the last three days and there was an early chill in the air for the fall. Normally I like the seasonal changes but this year it seemed that Mother Nature couldn't make up her mind what she wanted to do.
I looked to the bar and the cook waved to any table or booth that I wanted. It was probably because there was only one other table in the joint. An older couple, not even paying attention to each other. He, sipping his soup while trying to avoid getting any on his tie, and her examining what was on her plate with a fork and a discerningly disgusted look. This would have been funny if I was in the mood for fun.
I walked over and plopped myself down in a booth with a plethora of duct tape repairs and a table that leaned if there weren't salt packets underneath one leg. More to my mood. There was a menu on the table, and I glanced at it more for entertainment and something to do rather than getting anything other than what was I kind of in the mood for. The cook yelled if I wanted coffee, and I nodded yes. I figured he was the only one working the joint and thought to myself, "Who picked this place?" I chuckled in spite of myself at the thought and set the menu aside when I heard someone with the coffee.
Someone was right! My initial thought about the number of people working was off by at least 1 and boy was I glad for it! In front of me was one of the most gorgeous women I had ever seen. Deep eyes that I could spend a week in and only touch the surface. Smooth curves that would make a blind man aroused. I bet there wasn't another woman in the world that could fill out the cheap waitress outfit that she had on.
I was shocked out of my thoughts when I realized she was talking. It was like waking up for the alarm in the middle of a dream and you'd rather be back in the dream! "What are you deaf or something?" No, I replied and hoped that I hadn't been staring too badly, to eliminate the need to ask her for my eyes back. She set the coffee down with a, "Hmpph", and turned away.
"Congratulations clown! You didn't win any style points there!" I thought to myself annoyingly. When she turned, this view was even better and if I had been drinking the coffee, I would have choked myself because she took my breath away.
Several tattoos were just visible, and she had a body that every soldier overseas fighting or defending anything of worth, had in their gear that same picture, to remind them of what perfection was back here. The way she walked was a cross between sultry and silky. She could move in all the right ways, not meaning to probably, it was just the way God made her.
I made a note to thank the Creator when I thought about something other than her again. This might take a long cold shower and going through some family albums to get her out of my mind.
She came back to the table and asked me what I wanted, and again I couldn't find my tongue for some reason, it was there, I could feel it, like a dry lump, somehow paralyzed. I stammered about the ham sandwich, and she asked about fries which I nodded.
Sometime later she came back around and asked how I was on coffee. I asked for another cup and after she poured it, she said something that threw me off completely.
"You're new in here, but you're cute, and don't worry I get those looks all the time, but yours is different. You want to talk on my break?"
Did I want to talk, here was dessert practically staring me in the face, did I want to talk!?! Yes, in every language I could think of and some I couldn't. I got out a polite, "I would like that." And the cook called out my food. She got up, walked away and I swear there was just a bit more wiggle and sass there.
"Boss says I can take my break now so we can talk while you eat if you want."
Hell, yes, I wanted. Here I was with someone that would put Marylyn Monroe to shame, and she wanted to talk to me. She looked at me and I figured this was my opening. I asked about her tattoos. She explained where they all were and what they were. I asked her if she was shy about them and said no. She said she didn't get offended easily or often. She was a "free spirit" so to speak.
At hearing that, I still don't know what came over me or what I was thinking but I asked here what she thought they would taste like. She looked at me startled for a moment and I thought I had just died in the conversation.
Then she said, "I don't know I haven't tasted them, but I would guess that depending on where they are they might taste different."
I asked politely now, mind thinking clearly now, "Do you want me to tell you what I think they would taste like?"
"Sure Sugar, go ahead, I think I'd like to see where this is going." Ok I hadn't died yet. The cook yelled at her that her break was over.
