Sac Arrow
Touchdown! Greaser!
- Joined
- May 11, 2010
- Messages
- 20,382
- Location
- Charlotte, NC
- Display Name
Display name:
Snorting his way across the USA
So there I was...
Who is this masked woman? I've seen her before without a mask. Our eyes always connect in to this... for lack of better words, connection. Someone give me a suitable synonym. This day was just like all the other days when she's on shift. The furtive glance. Sending out them strong vibes. Subtly flashing my phone digits in Morse Code with my eyebrows.
"So what will it be today?" She said with a covered grin. Maybe it was a COVID grin. No, I'm going with covered. As in she actually needs to ask. I only order that one thing. I'm That Guy.
We had conversated before okay, sharing bits and pieces of our lives in the order line, and expanding on them as she rotates through the tables doing tray pickup and cleaning service. We have a lot of things in common. Well, we converge on the same fast food restaurant on a regular basis anyway. Actually, we have absolutely nothing in common. Other than that shared animal magnetism, drawing each other closely as soul mates draw near like a comet on a low planetary orbit.
She looked around nervously. The cooks were all busy discussing home live in Spanish. The manager was in the back. "Why don't you give me your digits?"
I'm all about like, totally, this isn't happening! It's like getting a letter from the FAA saying we screwed up and by the way here is your certificate back! Or kind of like the lottery, but if things end up as they should, it would be more like a reverse lottery. She doesn't look high maintenance, but who knows.
The leaves are frolicking around in the breeze, as a text comes through in breathless anticipation. It's an unknown number. I scramble to unlock my phone and discover what plans lay ahead.
Your freshly made order is now available for pickup at the counter. Thank you for choosing Habit Burger.
Who is this masked woman? I've seen her before without a mask. Our eyes always connect in to this... for lack of better words, connection. Someone give me a suitable synonym. This day was just like all the other days when she's on shift. The furtive glance. Sending out them strong vibes. Subtly flashing my phone digits in Morse Code with my eyebrows.
"So what will it be today?" She said with a covered grin. Maybe it was a COVID grin. No, I'm going with covered. As in she actually needs to ask. I only order that one thing. I'm That Guy.
We had conversated before okay, sharing bits and pieces of our lives in the order line, and expanding on them as she rotates through the tables doing tray pickup and cleaning service. We have a lot of things in common. Well, we converge on the same fast food restaurant on a regular basis anyway. Actually, we have absolutely nothing in common. Other than that shared animal magnetism, drawing each other closely as soul mates draw near like a comet on a low planetary orbit.
She looked around nervously. The cooks were all busy discussing home live in Spanish. The manager was in the back. "Why don't you give me your digits?"
I'm all about like, totally, this isn't happening! It's like getting a letter from the FAA saying we screwed up and by the way here is your certificate back! Or kind of like the lottery, but if things end up as they should, it would be more like a reverse lottery. She doesn't look high maintenance, but who knows.
The leaves are frolicking around in the breeze, as a text comes through in breathless anticipation. It's an unknown number. I scramble to unlock my phone and discover what plans lay ahead.
Your freshly made order is now available for pickup at the counter. Thank you for choosing Habit Burger.
