rexphantom

Dorothy was a waitress at the Promenade, working the night shift in an all-night joint that played jazz and played host to lonely souls, or souls ready to make a change. She had hair that was blonde, black at the roots, and her customers liked it that way. She was tall and she had a smirk her customers liked, too. She made a good living on tips. Nelson sat at her tables a few times a week; he was a man with slicked back hair and a thin mustache, but he made it work. His suit was rumpled and not dark enough to get anyones attention


Gimme a fruit cocktail, I aint too hungry, he said.

Dorothy smiled. Sounds like a real man to me.

She shimmied away and Nelson watched her hips (dear god, he loved her hips) and he couldnt tell if she was joking or not. She came back with a fruit cocktail, placed it in front of him on a violet napkin, and winked.

You come here a lot, she said.

I come here sometimes, said Nelson. You work here a lot. Nelson tried to grin, but he was afraid it looked fake and he let it drop.

"Well. Grin if you need anything," Dorothy said.