June 13, 2010

The mental game

The day was hot and I was hungry. Wandering into the shaded cool of the restaurant the reprieve from the heat was a blessing in itself. The dining area was occupied, but there were tables here and there so privacy wasn't an issue. The day had already been a long one and the only company that was welcome to me were the waitstaff.

Choosing a table near a flat screen TV that showed woman's softball I rest my tired ass on the welcome hard surface of the chair. The menu was the same no matter where I go. The standard appetizers that will kill you eventually, same for the main courses. I really should just get a salad, but emotionally I want comfort food. Hot wings and fried cheese sticks will be just what I want, less so than what I need.

"How are you doing today darlin'?"

I look up to my waitress. She is decked out in the standard "uniform" that the establishment is famous for, yet I am struck by her. The form fitting outfit does justice to curves of her body with skin slightly tan that you can only get by being careful of its exposure to the sun. Wild curly auburn hair dances around her face, it seems to be a mutual battle between who is in charge as she flips it over her shoulder, out of her eyes. Her eyes are soft blue with dancing fire behind them, the awareness there traces my face with soft caresses; memorizing each line, ever imperfection that makes me unique and files it away. Her smile disarms the weaker minds to all of this and her energy tells me that she is in total control of how she serves herself to others to take full advantage of any situation. My day has just gotten better, this will be fun.

"I will have a Dr. Pepper for now. I am still looking over the menu."

"I will get that for you, just let me know when you are ready."

She spins and walks away knowing full well that I am taking in her lovely assets as she goes. I smile to myself and continue looking at the menu. I already know what I want, but why make things easy?

She returns with the drink and wanders away. I play with the menu for a little while longer to see how impatient she can be. Kudos go to her as she never come back until I put the menu away.

"Figure out what you wanted?", she asks throwing out that radiant smile of hers that is just daring me to try something.

I give her my order, as she rearranges the menus on the side of the table, bending at the waist to show me her cleavage. I don't take the bait as I am looking her straight in the eye. She repeats back my order to verify it and she gives me this small secret smirk. It tells me "touche" and the match is on.

I sit waiting and watching the television for a little bit when she returns and sits down at my table across from me. The talk is small, the standard "where you been's" and "What are you doing in town" sort of thing, however the undertone was clear. "Who are you and why aren't you reacting like the other men that walk in here?" While we talk my order arrives. She gives me that big smile again and tells me to enjoy my meal and wanders off knowing that she didn't score any hits on me. What can I say, I can play hard to get as good as the next guy.

About halfway through my meal, she returns and switches tactics. Sitting next to me, she asks me if I know anything about soccer. Score a point for her, not what I was expecting.

Me: 2 Her: 1

I have no idea about soccer but American football I know a little more. She looks at me and tells me that it doesn't matter and proceeds to start filling out the form. She gets my basic information: Name and email address.

Me: 2 Her: 2

Then we proceed to go through the entire round robin choices for who will win the progressing games. At the end of it all, she takes the top sheet and hands me my carbon copy.

"There that's everything you will need.", she says.

I say, "Really, but your phone number isn't on here." and I smirk

She looks at me and gives me a different smile then turns away.

Me:3 Her: 2

The game winds down and my check comes. She tries one last ditch effort to get me to try a dessert, really throwing on the charm but I don't take the bait. Comfort food is one thing, cheesecake is death. I pay my bill and leave. As I walk out the door, I wonder if I will get an email from her on a random day...

Me: 3 Her: 3