Post by Steve on Oct 1, 2016 12:29:50 GMT -5
Oh no. No love. We have lips for many reasons. Admittedly some are more pleasurable but, one is to hide what is happening now. To conceal and prevent...i believe a bit of her omelette; yes, definitely crash-landed in my coffee. i know. i'm looking at it. A yolk island dislodged from its anchor, spinning in my mug. i know i'm staring because in my mind it's become a toddler, dizzily playing Duck, Duck, Goose with edge of glassware. An elastic strand of saliva snaps to the floating egg and creates a tiny ripple. i know what it was because she dabs her lip with her pinky.
i can't tell if she's speaking or chewing. i hope that the pop of strand could awake some form of dormant etiquette and wait a few seconds. i raise my eyebrows in an Ah, i see expression. No. No manners to be discovered yet. She must be gnashing away, puzzlement and confusion, bacon grease and ketchup, rests on her face.
No, please, no. Use a minute amount of restraint. Don't. Please? Oh man, it's happening. i can see the food-hole pucker into the WHfigure. Just let it be. i'm odd. Ignore my facial jesters, don't ask "What?" Phew. Not as horrendous as the other possibilities. Bits of browned pork and toasted crust flake her lips. Very little managed to escape the dental bars of her oral prison. As she loads more into the furnace of her face, i assume it was rhetorical, seeing that the mouth wasn't left vacant long enough for conversation. i use my eyes instead of a smile and mumble you're adorable. The entire time thinking how similar, the way she chews is to a dog wearing ill-fitted dentures. attacking a peanut butter sandwich.
She is beautiful. Anyone who can accept a compliment while performing perfect mandible jumping-jacks is something special. Fork in hand, smile on face, i carve my crepes.
i'm all closed curtain-smirk and she's all big-mouthed bass, and it's lovely. Our waitress visits with a dish of sausage, sliding onto the table another crepe for me. Nothing can ruin this. Not the wrong crepes. Not undercooked sausage. Not even the yellow arachnids dancing on webbing between her incisors.
Oh, do you really? Do you garden? Uh huh..Oh that's fine. I agree. Flowers DO look more appealing in a vase. The sun? Oh. Right. It IS harsh; beats viciously with nil regard to you admiring a garden. Couldn't agree more.And such and such, and much of much while a fork is suspended before my eager mouth. The colors grocery store vegtables have certainly are appetizing. Well i-i don-NO, i'm not saying you're wrong. i suppose it's true. My tomatoes wouldn't be as red. The cucumbers would never be so European Sports Car Green. Hmmm? Oh1 It's like a hunter-forest green shade. Sure. I could have JUST said that. It was a mouthful. Wasn't it?
Mouthful. Mouthful? Mouthful, she would know! Jumping Jaw Jessica here, expert on proper mass in mouths, says that was a mouthful. One syllable. One syllable too many. Two if i hadn't said "shade", which is evidence of my growing anxiety. Who could keep composed when the threat of aerial assault is real? The eggs have been cracked. The omelette prepaid. Ms. Mauer's arsenal, anytime, awaiting order for a secondary attack.
Cool down. cool down.
i let my eyes ride the sea of limpid customers. Baseball caps are the crown of the non-athletic. Sun-glasses are hair accessories. Tank-tops are acceptable dinning attire replacing respectable, casual button-down short sleeved shirts. Buttons are too time consuming. Why can't i find the
Clock?
My watch is being repaired and retaining a bit of social etiquette I've left my cellular in the car. Looking around i see that I've hanged myself with the hopeful rope of mannerism once more.
A grey stench pours out of the kitchen window, into the dining area and around the patrons. M eyes dart from baseball cap to ponytail, from tanked-teen to spandex top, curious if anyone else was witnessing the cloud rapidly gaining pigment, and no doubt, density. The only other to notice is a blonde, no-tailed with picture frame eyes. Instead of pivoting from person to person her eyes leap from smoke to restroom.
Is there a fire extinguisher hidden back there? Is she going to dash from the bar, topple a toddler and save her lover? Will she order more coffee, nonchalantly sit there and wait; for person or for fire? Is there a love? Family? What are those four silver daggers? What are those little lightning bolts blasting through my peripheral sky?
Eyes, gently now. Casual slide. No jumping or darting.
Uh! Heart, please. Don't drop any further. Wait for confirmation. Okay! Okay, i see it. She's been forking my plate. Poor, poor crepe. The wonders you held have run the area of dish; reduced to a rumor of what could have been. zthe bellies of your blueberries are a topography i will never taste.
i hear her talking again. Maybe she never stopped. i have a terrible habit of acknowledging without ever saying much to encourage the speaker to cease or continue. A language comprised of monosyllabic responses, neutral facial expressions and body positioning promoting an existence of interest. If facing the person, may even include eye contact. A wedding. Okay. Now, the tense of the wedding. i risk it and say it sounds nice. A smile. Good. So i run a little of the conversation.
The woods? In Maine? No, i think it's lovely ( and i honestly do), and in August the weather should be perfect. What colors did you say? No. I was listening, i only forgot. Something seems peculiar about the conversation. Well, not so much the conversation but-no, it is the discussion. Weren't we just at the "i like" "i don't" portion of personality classification? Not that a wedding couldn't be frivolous talk, or a great way to disguise mundane "do/don't" tactics but, she's expecting me to remember far too much. And her tone when she responds to my questions is metal shavings in a blender. Arrogant even. Who chose...The trail-err yeah i mean the train, made of flowers? Pretty unique...In a good way...in a everyone else will covet the idea way. A smile. She does have a gorgeous smile but, so do many sociopaths. Right. Why did she choose breakfast as a date? You know who says "Sure, let's have brunch on Sunday"? Friend-seekers, sadists, and joggers. That's who. i bet she jogs! You do jog! Awesome. Maybe we could someti... With my finger politely in the air i motion for our waitress, mouth the words -check please- and notice that the smoke had dissipated.
i look back to her glorious face, thoroughly disgusted by her personality, to find her dislodging an unruly berry from the fork; and polish it between her lips. How about we take a walk along my jogging route? i don't have one but who can't solve that problem? Sure, mimosas at your place first sounds great. Shower yeah..Blah Blah. My mind is being consumed, driven by only one desire.
To avenge my crepes.
i can't tell if she's speaking or chewing. i hope that the pop of strand could awake some form of dormant etiquette and wait a few seconds. i raise my eyebrows in an Ah, i see expression. No. No manners to be discovered yet. She must be gnashing away, puzzlement and confusion, bacon grease and ketchup, rests on her face.
No, please, no. Use a minute amount of restraint. Don't. Please? Oh man, it's happening. i can see the food-hole pucker into the WHfigure. Just let it be. i'm odd. Ignore my facial jesters, don't ask "What?" Phew. Not as horrendous as the other possibilities. Bits of browned pork and toasted crust flake her lips. Very little managed to escape the dental bars of her oral prison. As she loads more into the furnace of her face, i assume it was rhetorical, seeing that the mouth wasn't left vacant long enough for conversation. i use my eyes instead of a smile and mumble you're adorable. The entire time thinking how similar, the way she chews is to a dog wearing ill-fitted dentures. attacking a peanut butter sandwich.
She is beautiful. Anyone who can accept a compliment while performing perfect mandible jumping-jacks is something special. Fork in hand, smile on face, i carve my crepes.
i'm all closed curtain-smirk and she's all big-mouthed bass, and it's lovely. Our waitress visits with a dish of sausage, sliding onto the table another crepe for me. Nothing can ruin this. Not the wrong crepes. Not undercooked sausage. Not even the yellow arachnids dancing on webbing between her incisors.
Oh, do you really? Do you garden? Uh huh..Oh that's fine. I agree. Flowers DO look more appealing in a vase. The sun? Oh. Right. It IS harsh; beats viciously with nil regard to you admiring a garden. Couldn't agree more.And such and such, and much of much while a fork is suspended before my eager mouth. The colors grocery store vegtables have certainly are appetizing. Well i-i don-NO, i'm not saying you're wrong. i suppose it's true. My tomatoes wouldn't be as red. The cucumbers would never be so European Sports Car Green. Hmmm? Oh1 It's like a hunter-forest green shade. Sure. I could have JUST said that. It was a mouthful. Wasn't it?
Mouthful. Mouthful? Mouthful, she would know! Jumping Jaw Jessica here, expert on proper mass in mouths, says that was a mouthful. One syllable. One syllable too many. Two if i hadn't said "shade", which is evidence of my growing anxiety. Who could keep composed when the threat of aerial assault is real? The eggs have been cracked. The omelette prepaid. Ms. Mauer's arsenal, anytime, awaiting order for a secondary attack.
Cool down. cool down.
i let my eyes ride the sea of limpid customers. Baseball caps are the crown of the non-athletic. Sun-glasses are hair accessories. Tank-tops are acceptable dinning attire replacing respectable, casual button-down short sleeved shirts. Buttons are too time consuming. Why can't i find the
Clock?
My watch is being repaired and retaining a bit of social etiquette I've left my cellular in the car. Looking around i see that I've hanged myself with the hopeful rope of mannerism once more.
A grey stench pours out of the kitchen window, into the dining area and around the patrons. M eyes dart from baseball cap to ponytail, from tanked-teen to spandex top, curious if anyone else was witnessing the cloud rapidly gaining pigment, and no doubt, density. The only other to notice is a blonde, no-tailed with picture frame eyes. Instead of pivoting from person to person her eyes leap from smoke to restroom.
Is there a fire extinguisher hidden back there? Is she going to dash from the bar, topple a toddler and save her lover? Will she order more coffee, nonchalantly sit there and wait; for person or for fire? Is there a love? Family? What are those four silver daggers? What are those little lightning bolts blasting through my peripheral sky?
Eyes, gently now. Casual slide. No jumping or darting.
Uh! Heart, please. Don't drop any further. Wait for confirmation. Okay! Okay, i see it. She's been forking my plate. Poor, poor crepe. The wonders you held have run the area of dish; reduced to a rumor of what could have been. zthe bellies of your blueberries are a topography i will never taste.
i hear her talking again. Maybe she never stopped. i have a terrible habit of acknowledging without ever saying much to encourage the speaker to cease or continue. A language comprised of monosyllabic responses, neutral facial expressions and body positioning promoting an existence of interest. If facing the person, may even include eye contact. A wedding. Okay. Now, the tense of the wedding. i risk it and say it sounds nice. A smile. Good. So i run a little of the conversation.
The woods? In Maine? No, i think it's lovely ( and i honestly do), and in August the weather should be perfect. What colors did you say? No. I was listening, i only forgot. Something seems peculiar about the conversation. Well, not so much the conversation but-no, it is the discussion. Weren't we just at the "i like" "i don't" portion of personality classification? Not that a wedding couldn't be frivolous talk, or a great way to disguise mundane "do/don't" tactics but, she's expecting me to remember far too much. And her tone when she responds to my questions is metal shavings in a blender. Arrogant even. Who chose...The trail-err yeah i mean the train, made of flowers? Pretty unique...In a good way...in a everyone else will covet the idea way. A smile. She does have a gorgeous smile but, so do many sociopaths. Right. Why did she choose breakfast as a date? You know who says "Sure, let's have brunch on Sunday"? Friend-seekers, sadists, and joggers. That's who. i bet she jogs! You do jog! Awesome. Maybe we could someti... With my finger politely in the air i motion for our waitress, mouth the words -check please- and notice that the smoke had dissipated.
i look back to her glorious face, thoroughly disgusted by her personality, to find her dislodging an unruly berry from the fork; and polish it between her lips. How about we take a walk along my jogging route? i don't have one but who can't solve that problem? Sure, mimosas at your place first sounds great. Shower yeah..Blah Blah. My mind is being consumed, driven by only one desire.
To avenge my crepes.