Friday night. He'd already put in 53 hours at his construction job, not to mention the additional 15 hours driving to and fro. One to wet the whistle, drive home, take the boots off, kick his feet up... only to fall asleep to Netflix.
Diane's head was ablazen from all the Monday thru Friday cubicle gossip whirling above and around her head. Susie's divorce... the new boss's arrogance.. and oodles and oodles of hard work put in to finally achieve her 3pm Friday deadline - completed. By the joint to stop for one to inaugurate the weekend.
Their eyes met across the bar. Well, that's not totally true.. Her eyeballs laid and stayed focused on his Wranglers as he got up and walked into the john. With much delight, and continued focus, she was doubly pleased as he returned to his barstool. His eyes. "Yum, his eyes" she thought - not to be outdone was his appealing smile, first take of thinking "a good, decent man."
For every action, there's an equal and opposite reaction, and it so happens he caught her eyes from across the room, "dreamy" crept into his brain - she smiled... like a tennis player, he returned same.
Soon, she too got up to use the restroom... "Would you look at her wonderful figure!" ran thru his brain. They both were in great shape, and to be frank, "bend me, shape me any way you want me" crossed his brain. We, all men, are/can be piggies. Just a gol durn minute, all women can be piglets too. She returned to her chair at the table, sitting by herself.
He sucked, or so he thought, on being the aggressor, coming up with something friendly, catchy to say as an introduction. Gulping the last drop of his jack and coke, he said to heck with it - walked over, announced, "Hi, I'm Jack." "Nice to meet you Jack" as she extended her hand, "I'm Diane." She felt the roughness of his hand - but it was Ok, a comfy "honest day's work" feel.
Somehow, words came with ease - they admired one another's smiles, eyes, conversation, all that. They each returned once to the restroom, they equally admired that. With visions of sugarplums, and "If the house is a rockin'" thoughts went thru their brains, she didn't hesitate one iota when he asked for her cell number.
He figured 9am Saturday she prolly would be up, so he called. "Hi Jack!" she exclaimed. "Careful," he cautioned, "don't ever say that to me getting on a plane." "Ha" she fired back, "how are you?" He was higher than a kite at the thought of a date with her, but fearing showing too much "oh baby oh baby" emotion, he answered calmly, "I'm very good, and you?" Small talk led to "hey, let's take a drive this afternoon to stare at the beauty of the trees changing>" "Great, let's do."
They did. There was comfort, ease in their conversation. Each felt the want to pinch themselves to make sure they were awake and it wasn't a dream. They took turns staring at the trees along the way, but in truth, they, again like a tennis match, took turns staring at the other when the other wasn't watching. Two hours expired in what seemed like 10 minutes.
"Hey," Jack threw out, "howabout a game of Parcheesi back at my place?" She couldn't have cared if he'd asked Monopoly, Clue, Scrabble, Go Fish or Duck, Duck Goose - she was game. (Side note, "Parcheesi nicely spelled Victor." I know, thanks to Microsoft red underlining.)
He lost game one. "Two outta three? Loser cooks dinner?" "Deal" Diane fired back with a smile.
In between moments of however in the heck one plays Parcheesi, they dipped into their life histories, siblings, where they grew up, their parents, past jobs...whatever seemed worthy of sharing.
"Ha! One to One" Jack lipsmacked with a smile. "Game 3 on, I'm hankerin' for some spaghetti!"
Unlike the 'every time I lose a wrasslin' match, I got a funny feeling that I won,' she actually did win. "Got the ingredients for lasagna?" she fired. Strangely, he did.
Pandora blared in the background, with brief interludes of clanking pots and pans. An album later, "Dinner is served." Candlelit dinner. Diane was impressed, and after bite #1, doubly impressed.
They walked the dishes to the sink, and both dug into the warm water to wash and rinse the dishes. He felt the urge for a hug, their first, she willingly obliged. "I wish my hands weren't so wet" he thought to himself. "I wish his hands weren't so wet" she dreamed.
Out back, the air was as cold as what one thinks the air is in the Midwest when the trees change - thus, they nestled in around the firepit. Conversation, laughter, giggles, baby touches ruled the night. At one point, he used his sleeve to wipe the Hersheymellowgraham off her lip, then followed with a kiss. She no complained.
They went to the bedroom, doinked, and planned their second date. Don't be a dweeb and believe that..
She did spend the night, but no hanky panky. Si, hugs, kisses, laughter, mutual body heat to assist the furnace...a good time was had by all.
She awakened staring at a ceiling she didn't remember.. to the smell of coffee coming from the distance. "Sugar...sugar?" Jack asked. "Nope, black is perfect." They downed some biscuits and gravy, jointly worked the morning crossword puzzle, while her thoughts crept to "Man this guy can cook", which is fancy for "Damn he's cute, handsome, BUILT."
Like a good tennis player's return, similar thought transpired in his brain.
A nice, long hug at the doorway - she opened the closet door to retrieve her wrap - and there it was. His MAGA hat. "DEPLORABLE!" she screamed... long about that time he noticed peeking out from under her blouse her "Not me. Us" Bernie Sanders t-shirt. "SNOWFLAKE!" he returned in equal pissed off tennis match fashion.
Neither noticed "Why Can't We Be Friends" playing in the background on Pandora.
Fall is changing to Winter. There would be no shady tree and she kept her Bobby Brooks on.
Woosh, she was gone, fastern' a scroll thru an opponent's posting on Facebook. "Eh, it's hunting season anyways" Jack told himself.
Oh yeah, life goes on... long after the thrill of living is gone.
A little ditty, 'bout Jack and Diane. And us, in America today.
Love, Victurd
No comments:
Post a Comment