Note: Read the Prologue (although titled Epilogue) to this story here
I shuffle off the train with the rest of the drones. All of us wearing the same mask of indifference and boring suit uniform. Well, almost everyone. This new stranger seems to have a spring to his step. An upward tug of the lips that I think is a smile, but at 8am seems just weird. I need my coffee to try to appreciate this weirdness. He also seems to have a brightness in his eyes, or was that a wink of his eye? DAMN IT! Caught again. Now, I’m blushing like a prepubescent little girl. Is this what happens when you haven’t felt the giddiness of flirting in years? I love my husband. I love my husband.
No time for this silliness. Must get coffee. Another line. Arggh. Why must it be this way? Can’t someone just have coffee waiting for me as I get off the train. A sex slave to travel with me on my commute who only feels satisfying sensations from completing my mundane chores and making my life just a little less frustrating. Have my tall non-fat latte with a sprinkle of vanilla ready. Carry my heavy purse filled with things to keep my commute and mind busy – ipod, ds, book, make up, android phone, journal, snacks, gum, bandaids, hollywood gossip magazine, change, spare jewelry to change up the outfit, thin sweater for the air conditioned-so-we-can-see-your-nipples office, work shoes, house keys, and wallet. I’ll save his orgasm for my home chores. Wash dishes. Wash, fold, put away clothes. Grocery shopping. And to help push him over the edge, sweep and mop my floors! Oh good sex slave. Mistress Diva will treat you well. You will be super hot looking and we will both enjoy your deeds.
Why the hell is this line taking so long?! It really can’t be that hard to figure out what you want. Who is the idiot looking up at the menu board in front of the cashier. You’re supposed to figure it out while you’re waiting in line Beavis! Not when you get up there. Oh great. The cashier is giggling and trying to help him out. Stop flirting and just call out the order already girly. Here’s help, buddy. Coffee. Double-Double. I am going to be late! Should I bail on this line and just get to my jail cell of a desk? I can’t! I’m next in line. Arrgg. HurryUpHurryUpHurryUp.
Hummphph! I guess I must have huffed and puffed a bit loud, because Beavis turns around and I can’t believe the same guy who is going to make me late because he can’t speak StarBuckese is HIM!