(... found in a notebook just now, in my own handwriting. I must have been working at the Kopi cafe, mid-summer, maybe they year 2000? I don't really remember writing it.)
She's sitting there again, reading as usual. Her straight (obviously dyed) blond hair is pulled back into a ponytail with a small black 'scrunchy'. It looks from here like she is studying hard. Her brow is crinkled in the most adorable way. I notice that most of the other guys around the cafe can't help but glance her way at least once a minute. Same shit, different day. I check the Nachos in the convection oven. They're not quite ready yet. The song changes from The Beatles' Happiness Is A Warm Gun to some Hindi Trip-Hop. She glances quickly from her book towards me, and I realize she is distracted by the tinny quality of the tiny over-baked speaker mounted above my head, and is glancing at it, not me. Still, she caught me daydreaming in her general direction, so I try to smile at her before she... She looks away, not noticing. She buries her eyes in her book. I turn back to my ovens, looking for a distraction of my own. Shit! I just burned another order of nachos. Good thing the boss lady ain't here, eh? Women can be dangerous to cooks. I turn the volume down for her.
Monday, February 1, 2010
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