Blowout Sale in an Otherwise Unimpressed Small Town

Posted: September 8, 2012 in Uncategorized

As much as he wished his waitress had a small degree of attitude with her service, impatiently and wetly chomping on a chunk of bubble gum and shouting some lines of indecipherable restaurant code to her fry cook, she was just the opposite. She stood there waiting for him to decide between the english muffins or the belgian waffles, hell bent on not rushing the only customer under 65 in her restaurant. She could ask if he wanted more time, but then he might feel he had to make a snap decision and she wanted no part of that. It was early and barely Tuesday and she didn’t need that kind of guilt weighing on her all the way to Saturday at 6PM. He looked at the pictures, prolonging the moment by mumbling inane questions and dismissing them with a wave of his hand, insisting that he needed to hurry up and make a decision. The scene played out in less than sixty seconds, a minute in which he nervously peered over his menu at least four times to catch a glimpse of her breasts through her shirt. He always wanted the english muffins, he just wanted a reason to keep her at the table for any extra moment that he could dwell on heavily for the rest of the day.

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