The Waitress

It all started off innocently enough. I mean, how often to you expect to actually get a waitress's phone number when you ask? Sure surprised the hell out of me, I'll tell you that.

I had been sitting in Stan's Diner for a little under an hour, and I couldn't take my eyes off of her. She had served me my coffee, my egg omelet and I was just sitting waiting for the check now. She walked back and forth amongst the tables, making small talk with the other patrons. She had a nice voice.

"Hey honey, is there anything else I can get for you?"
"Did you enjoy your pie, sugar? The blueberry is always my favorite."
"C'mon Joe, get your hands away from there; my ass isn't public property, and you know it."

Some folks would have said that she wasn't much to look at, but there was something about her... something sweet. I realized I was staring when she came over to my table, ready with my check.

"Anything else I can get for you, hon?" The look in her eyes suggested that she might be able to offer me something that wasn't exactly on the menu. I blushed. I was horrible about reading into such things, but I think she was hitting on me. After a few awkward moments, I managed to stammer out:

"Uh... maybe your phone number?" Wow, that was slick.
"Sure thing! That and $6.52 and I'll get out of your hair." What, really? That really worked? I was more than a little numb as I reached for my wallet and pulled out a ten. I handed it to her and mumbled something about keeping the change. She laughed and said she'd be right back. I watched her go, a sense of disbelief washing over me.

After a couple of minutes, she came back. She was holding something in one of her hands and she offered it to me as I stood up. I took it and heard her say softly, "I get off at 5. Call me." I looked down at what she had handed me and saw her name tag, her embossed name standing out on the front: FAYE. On the back was her phone number. I practically floated out of the place.

I didn't know what to do with myself, so I just sort of drove around for a few hours. I had the day off, and nothing better to do. I think I must have circled the city four times before I looked at the clock and saw that it was almost 5:30. Oh shit! I need to call her! I raced back home and swore under my breath as I saw the clock in the kitchen read 5:45 by the time I got there. I ran through to the living room and grabbed the phone, my hands shaking as I dialed the number.

Briiiiiiing....
Briiiiiiing....
"Hello?"
"Um, hi. Uh... is this Faye?"
"Sure is. Is this my coffee and egg omelet from earlier." I laughed a little.
"Yeah, yeah, that's me."
"Well, go on upstairs then. I'm waiting."
"Wait, what?"
Click! The phone when dead. Had she said upstairs? In my house? I quickly thought back and realized that my door hadn't been locked when I came in. I'd been in such a hurry to call her than I'd missed it when I first came in. I looked toward the stairs. Could she have really broken in? No, no way. I started upstairs, not knowing what to think.

I got to the top of the stairs and looked down the hall. There was a faint light coming from under my bedroom door. "H-hello?" I called out.
"In here, sugar." What the hell? She's really here, isn't she? I started down the hallway, getting mad and more than a little freaked out as I went. I got to the door, took few deep breaths and pushed it open.

I had just enough time to take in the sight of lit candles, scattered rose petals and what looked like a bottle of champagne before her naked body hit me. She was all over me, kissing and biting, mumbling near-incoherent things about how she had wanted me from the moment that she first saw me. Even now, looking back, I have to admit: it was amazing. My brain couldn't catch up with reality and my body took over. Fifteen minutes later, I was handcuffed to the bed, on my back with her on top. We moved together more and more rapidly and when it ended, we both cried out.

I laid there, trying to catch my breath, trying to make some sense of what had happened. She got up, smiled at me and started gathering her clothes. I started to speak, but she gently cut me off.

"That was good, honey. Some of the best I've had since I've been doing this. But now, it's time to go." Time to go, what does she mean by that? I still couldn't make heads or tails of what was going on, but I started to figure it out when she got dressed and grabbed my wallet from my pants pocket on the way out.

"Hey, what are you doing?" She only smiled at me over her shoulder as she walked out the door, my wallet still in hand.

Now I'm lying here, trying to figure out how to get these handcuffs off, and there's only one coherent thought in my mind. I am never going to eat there again!