Don’t talk about serial killers.

That would be weird.

But she’s weird, so maybe she’d be cool with serial killers.

As long as I don’t come off as a serial killer myself.

Shit. I’m already being weird and I’m not even talking to her yet.

Well at least I think she’s a little weird. She walked into the shop about 10 minutes after I did, looked at me, looked away and kept walking to another table.

At first I wasn’t sure if it was her, I’d seen a couple of pics on her profile, but she was making faces in each of them. I think that’s why I liked her. I thought, “this girl is hilarious” and she looked like she had nice tits.

And then she sent me a dirty pic,  and I actually got to see her tits and that kind of clinched it.

I pulled up her pic on my phone. Damn. Seriously, this girl has some gorgeous boobs. I looked at the picture and glanced quickly at her. The hair was the same– same color, same length and same style. Face looked the same but I wasn’t sure if I should look at her again. She didn’t want me to realize she was there so I ignored her.

I could feel her watching me. I pulled out the comics I picked up at Dark Tower earlier in the day. Phil was there looking for something for his girl friend.

“I dunno what to get her, she’s into some girly manga shit.” He said. “But she’s like, ‘Phil, come on, I wanna read what you read.’ And then I give her something and she hates it.”

“Tough break man. Just get her some Wonder Woman comics. Everyone likes Wonder Woman.” I told him.

He shrugged and picked up a different comic. “Hey wanna come over later? I’m having a barbecue. Gina bought some rotisserie chickens, but I’m gonna throw some steaks on the grill and I bought a case of beer. Tommy, Steve, Sarah and that girl Sarah’s been dating will be there.”

“I can’t. I’ve got a date.”

“Oh shit, is it the girl with the boobs?”

“Fuck, Phil. Why do I tell you anything? Yes, the girl with the boobs.”

He smacked me on the back. “Hell yeah, man! Good luck. Let me know how that goes.”

“Yeah, sure.”

And now here I am pretending to not notice her. I can sort of see her out of the corner of my eye, but I can’t make out what she’s doing. Oh God. She’s standing up. Okay, eat the biscotti. Don’t look up. Be cool.

She stood in front of my table. “Hi.” She said.

Okay, be cool. Be nonchalant or whatever. “I was wondering when you were going to come over. You’ve been staring at me for 20 minutes I was about to get up and leave.” I finally look up and smile at her. She was cuter in person than in her pictures. Probably because her mouth wasn’t open. Fuck, don’t look at her tits.

Nope. Couldn’t be helped. Hope she didn’t notice.

“It was only 15.” She whines as she sits down and reaches for one of my comics. “You brought reading material? Were you expecting me to be boring?”

“No, I stopped at the shop before coming here. And it’s a good thing I did. You stared at me like a creep for half an hour.”

“I did not! I’m not a creep either.” She looks like she wants to laugh, but she’s trying to look angry.

I shrug. “You’re right. Girls can’t be creeps.”

“Well… I don’t think that’s true.”

“No.” I pause. “Because boobs. Want a coffee?” I gesture towards the counter and stand up.

“Yes, a latte would be great.”

I smile at the girl at the counter and order our coffees. She’s cute too. If this girl doesn’t work out I can come back and ask her out instead. She hands me our drinks and I drop a tip in the jar.

“It’s nice right?” I ask.

“What?” She reaches for her coffee.

“My ass. You totally checked me out.”

“I did. It’s okay.”

This girl is a winner. “You’re a liar.”

She laughed. “Okay, I think I like you.”

I try not to look surprised. “Really? That quick? Damn, I’m good.”

“You’re not bad. But here’s the thing, I can’t promise I’ll sleep with you yet. I know I showed you my tits, but that’s mostly because I’m vain and wanted you to like me.”

Damn. She’s straight to the point. “Um. Okay.”

“But, I can promise that there will be kissing.”

“Kissing? Kissing is nice.”

“With tongues.”

I laugh and she takes a sip of her latte and makes a face.

“Not good?”

“Not sweet.” she says.

“Oh. Just dip your finger in it.”

I wait for her to laugh or groan, most likely groan as that’s my worst line ever. She just stares at me. Shit she doesn’t get it. I keep waiting and she finally laughs.

“Delayed reaction?”

“Maybe.” she looks around the table.

I point towards the counter where the sugar is. “So I can look forward to kissing with tongues, eh?”

“Yes. Lots.”

“I can deal with that.” I smile.

“Good.” She says as she gets up.

I watch her pour 20 packets of sugar into her drink, taste it and then add a couple more.

She walks back to the table.

“Are you sure that’s enough sugar? ”

“Don’t make fun.”

“Seriously, I’ve never seen anyone add that much sugar to their coffee.”

She looked down at her cup, “I don’t really like the taste.”

I laughed. “So why did you get one?”

“Because we’re at a coffee shop. And you were getting one so I just said the first thing that came to mind.”

“I’ll get you something else. What would you like? ”

“Oh my gosh you don’t have to.”

“Just tell me.”

“I dunno.”

“Come on.”

“Uh…a smoothie.”

“A smoothie?”

“Yes.”

“Ok.”

“What kind?”

“Strawberry.”

“Ok.” Who agrees to coffee when they hate it? I go up to the cute girl at the counter. “Do you have smoothies?”

“Uh, I have like iced drinks.”

“Without coffee?”

She thinks about it. “I could make the vanilla chill without coffee.”

I turn around, “do you like vanilla?” I yell across the shop.

“I could make it work!” She yells back.

“Ok, we’ll do the coffee-less vanilla chill.”

“Ok, just a sec.” She smiles and I wink at her. Two minutes later I have a medium vanilla chill and I walk back to the table.

“Try this and tell me what you think. If it’s not delicious I’ll make sure the girl at the counter is fired.” I hand her the drink.

She opens her straw and places it into the drink slowly. “I’m nervous now.”

I laugh. “Why?”

“Because. Someone’s job depends on this drink!” She sticks her tongue out at me and then takes a sip.

“Well?”

“Shut this place down.”

“It’s not bad is it?”

She hands me the cup. “Try it.”

I smirk and try it. It tastes like frozen milk.

“Okay fine. But their coffee is good.”

There’s an awkward silence.

“So what do you do for a living?” She asks me.

“I play the ukulele on the side of the interstate for money.” I say without skipping a beat.

She starts laughing like a lunatic. It’s cute even if it’s a little crazy and loud. It’s hard not to laugh with her, but I’m trying to keep a straight face.

“Shut up. You’re stupid.”

I can’t hold back my laughter anymore. “Did you just call me stupid and tell me to shut up?  Damn this date is going downhill fast. I thought we were going to French soon.”

“Who said we weren’t?” She reaches over and hits my shoulder.

“Are you beating me now?”

“No!”

“You’re yelling at me now!”

I can feel people starting to stare at us.

“You’re the one yelling at me!”

“No I’m not!”

“Oh my gosh!”

We both start laughing. She goes to take another sip. “Oh fuck. That’s gross.”

I grab the cup from her.

“I work in IT.”

“What?”

“You asked me what I do. I work in IT. You?”

“Oh. That’s cool. Like computer stuff?”

“Something like that. What do you do?”

She fiddled with both of her disappointment drinks.

“Don’t laugh.”

“Why would I laugh? Are you a stripper? Because that would be amazing.”

“Oh my gosh, you are stupid.”

“is that going to be your pet name for me?”

“Yes.”

I laugh. “Tell me.”

She takes a deep breath. “OK. I work in events.”

“What kind of events?”

“Kids parties…”

“What do you do for them?”

She takes a swig of the flavor less vanilla chill. “I am the entertainment.”

“You strip for kids?”

“Stupid.”

“You’re going to make me blush.”

“I uh do magic tricks, or dress as a clown, or wear the full character costumes.”

This poor girl.

“You can laugh. Everyone does.”

“I’m not going to laugh.”

“No?”

“No.” I smile. “How long have you been doing that?”

“Um about two years now.”

“Two years of kids parties?”

She shrugs. “Yeah. It sorta pays the bills. I also nanny during the week.”

“What do you really want to do?”

“How do you know this isn’t my childhood dream?” She reaches for her coffee.

“You can’t drink that. You’ll get the diabetes.”

She laughs. “Damn, I don’t want that. Give me a piece of the biscotti then.”

“But I bit it.”

“I don’t care. Gimme.”

I place the piece into her palm. “So what’s the real goal?”

She takes a bite of the biscotti and then dips it into my coffee. “I’m a writer.”

“Are you going to write about me?” She laughs. “Why is that funny?”

“Why does everyone assume they’re interesting enough to write about?” She winks at me. “Are you almost done with your coffee?”

“Hey I’m interesting!”

“Focus. Are you done? ”

“Well you dipped your germy biscotti in it. So I’m done now.”

“Then let’s go. I’m thirsty and hungry.” She grabs her purse. And I just sit there staring at her. “Come on.” She stomped her foot.  “I know a place.”

“Okay okay. So pushy. Why didn’t you suggest that in the first place?”

“Because I’m stupid. Let’s go.”

She grabbed me by the arm and dragged me out of the cafe.

“You’re pretty strong, you know.” I said.

She just gave me a look and stepped off the curb and put her arm out.

“What are you doing?” I asked.

“An interpretive dance.” She replied as a taxi pulled up. “Get in pumpkin.” She opened the door and slid into the back seat. “Don’t just stand there!”

I ran to the cab and got in.

“Lincoln and Berwyn please.” She told the driver.

“Where are we going?”

“I’m kidnapping you.”

“I could think of worse kidnappers.” I smiled at her. And she leaned her head on me.

“I’m so hungry. I’m… dying.”

“Don’t die, we still have to make out.”

“Hmm you’re right.” She lifted her head slightly.  “Driver, step on it.” She laughed softly.

“So where are you taking me?” I ask again.

“It’s a colombian cafe with really good food. It’s snacks and baked goods mostly. But super delicious. Their coffee is good too, supposedly.”

“Supposedly.”

“I’ve never had it, but my friends seem to like it.”

“What do you get?”

“Any of the juices. Depends on my mood.”

“What’s your mood saying today?”

“My mood is in an inappropriate place, I really can’t say right now.”

I laughed.

“Don’t laugh,” She said. “I don’t necessarily mean like sexy time inappropriate. What if I meant like murderous inappropriate? What if I thirsted for the blood of 20 virgins?” She looked up at me. “Would you get out of the cab?”

This girl has a strange sense of humor. I can deal with that. “What if I told you I too ‘thirsted for the blood of 20 virgins?'”

She smiled. “You’re crazy.” She looked out the window. “Oh you can pull over here.”

The driver pulls up to a tiny colombian cafe. “$7.59 please.” He says.

She grabs her purse and reaches for the door. “Hope you have cash.”

“Why?”

“So you can pay the man.” She laughs.

Is she serious.

“I’m joking.” She pulls a bill from her wallet. “Here you go. Keep the change.”

We exit the cab and she opens the door for me.

“So what are we having?” I ask.

“Everything.”

29. Incorporates: chickens, interstate, a ukulele, serial killers, drought.