I think this Indian summer weather is confusing to the body. I went to the out-of-state office where I work once or twice a week, but I felt so sleepy all day. I even bought a box of Yodels or Ho-Hos or whatever they're called (they were on sale at Shoprite) so I could give myself a sugar blast after lunch. Didn't work, even after I ate two pieces.
When I got back to the city in the late afternoon I took a short half-sleep kind of nap, but felt restless when I got up. I didn't want to eat right away so I decided to go to the strip club for awhile. The place didn't have many customers. I got a dance from a tall, statuesque big-breasted black girl, but it was kind of impersonal; I couldn't "suspend my disbelief," and didn't want another. Then a very petite Latina came over, and I figured I'd try another dance. This was much better. Let's call her Grace. She danced very close, but more than that she looked at me and moved against me like I was her boyfriend returning from a long trip or something. It wasn't that she had such a great body, although it was nice enough, and she had very alluring large dark nipples that always seemed hard. I wondered if she's been nursing a baby. I was ready to volunteer, if she wanted to practice...
Her face was great; although she couldn't have been more than twenty-five, it had an experienced, knowing quality, which made her look carnal to me; but warmth too in her slightly wide mouth and dark eyes. I got pretty turned on. The only thing I regretted is that she wasn't taller, because I sure would have loved those breasts hovering over my face and swinging like pendulums against my shiny dome. But she would have had to stand on the banquette for that, as short as she was, and that's not allowed.
I guess I'll start stopping by the club after work for awhile, instead of in the evenings as I'd been doing lately. She works on the early shift. Come to think of it, I'm going to call her "Little Chelo" instead of Grace, because her face reminded me a little of the actress Chelo Alonso; if you want to see what I mean, look up my 10/22/05 post "Take a Peek at Chelo Alonso" and click on the link. Hey, rather than making you look for it, I'll put the link on this post too.
After Little Chelo's stimulating dance, I finished the rest of my beer and went to dinner. It's hard sometimes going out for a meal after being in the club, because I still feel like I want company and many times have to eat by myself. I don't mean that to sound as pathetic as it does; any single person will tell you that, even if you have good friends, there are many nights when you dine alone. Tomorrow, by contrast, I am having a "boy's night out" dinner with two married pals and my divorced buddy ZP, a blow-out we've been planning for awhile.
The waitress at the diner I went to this evening is a young woman who seemed vaguely hostile to me when I first went to this place two or three months ago. She always saw me alone, eating with my nose stuck in a magazine or newspaper, and I started to wonder if she held my solitude against me. You have to understand, I was always cordial to her and there was no reason for her to consider me a jerk for personal reasons.
Then, about a month ago, I met my pal Diana there for dinner, and this waitress's attitude seemed to change markedly towards me. Diana is my platonic friend, and although there is a twenty-four year age gap, we've been buddies for about seven years since we met at work. One remarkable thing about Diana is that she has an unusually beautiful face. One busboy kept coming by to refill her water glass, as if he wanted to keep looking at her. She has that effect on people, even though she's not stuck-up about it. She sometimes seems unaware of her impact on men. Once we went into a grocery store and I saw the counter guy's jaw literally drop when he saw her.
In any case, after the waitress saw me with Diana, her attitude subsequently became much more friendly. Now, when I come in alone, she looks at me with these penetrating eyes and these big smiles. It's strange, but I have a feeling there is some connection to the night I ate there with Diana. This waitress is probably the same age as Diana.
I go to this particular diner because it has the right atmosphere in which to dine alone. It's funny how some restaurants have this perfect ambiance, and some don't. The tables have to be spaced or placed in such a way that you're around other people, but can maintain your privacy if you want. The lighting has to be bright enough to read, but not antiseptically bright that you feel your aloneness is under a spotlight in stark contrast to the groups around you. The staff must be friendly, but not overly so. People who are alone often want to be, but also like measured interactions with others as well.
So much for my musings on contemporary diner design. I have to go to sleep soon, because I have to go out to the office early again tomorrow and get a lot of work done. As I drift off, perhaps I'll contemplate Little Chelo and her passionate moves. I knew I wasn't her boyfriend or husband, but by the second song (she danced for me three times), my disbelief was well-suspended. When I whispered, "Mommy, you're so sexy," she smiled and then really went into the show.
Yes, I shall contemplate her with zeal...
Cult Sirens
