90s
grunge. I fed the machine the singles Larry and Jesse had given me,
and started from the beginning.
“ Needle and the Damage Done?
You want us crying in our beers, Elle?” I jumped defensively and
shoved the body behind me. “Hey, it’s just me, sweetheart,” J cooed
in my ear, holding his hands up in surrender.
“ Sorry, reflex.” I turned
back to the juke box. “Cinnamon Girl?”
“ That’s better. What else
you got?” J asked, leaning into me as I rested forward on to the
juke box. His body seemed even larger, as I was in flat shoes and
not heels. It felt as if I was engulfed in this giant of a man. I
picked another song. “Smile by Pearl Jam. So, you’re not all hip
hop I see.” That spurred me on. “Sheep? Did you really just play a
fifteen minute song?” I gave him a crooked smile and a wink. “What
do you know about Pink Floyd?” J asked, obviously
stunned.
I smiled up at him. “I know they sucked
after Roger Waters left the band, and that when he brought them his
original version of the Wall they told him it was “too dark” and
they changed some of it,” I told J, making air quotes. “Really, I’d
like to see how much darker the Wall could be. I also know that
Animals was one of their worst received albums on the radio, but is
the best in my opinion.”
“ Impressive,” J smiled wide.
We picked out some more songs. He picked something by Kid Rock I
didn’t know, and Purple Rain. Prince. OK, that impressed me. I
chose an Eagles track, Civil War by Guns n Roses, Color Me Once by
the Violent Femmes, and Love Hate Thing by Wale. I looked up at J
as I pressed the last buttons for the Wale song he had gotten me
off to at Eight Oh Eight. I could tell by the half smile on his
face he caught my innuendo.
“ You know it’s adorable when
you do that half smile? You get a little dimple right here,” J
said, putting his finger on my lone dimple and running it down my
jaw, my neck, and over my collar bone. I shivered.
“ Hmmm. Funny, I was thinking
you looked pretty sexy when you turned up one side of your mouth.
Makes me want to see what I can do to get the other side up.” Oh,
good one Elle. Those shots were kicking in.
I asked J if he got
his business taken
care of. “For now,” he replied cryptically. OK, so I’m not stupid.
I know what business is. Or at least, I know there are a variety of
things that can be business and none of them were legal. I did my
own business from
time to time, and for me, that meant slangin’ some weed to make
extra money when funds were low. Amidst the storm of bullshit that
came out of my mother’s mouth, there were a few droplets of wisdom
she imparted upon me, usually in the form of sayings. One of which
came to me while I sat with J at the table. If you ask a question, make sure you are prepared for all
possible answers . I decided I didn’t want
to know what his business was.
“ So J, what else do you
do?”
“ Are you asking me my
hobbies?”
“ Sure,” I
shrugged.
“ Well Elle, I like to
garden, collect rare coins, and visit national monuments. How about
you?” J responded sarcastically. Oh, I could pay this game
too.
“ Well J, I too like to
collect rare coins as well as quilt and, scrapbook.” Oh yeah,
scrapbooking was good. I mentally high fived myself. I’m sure my
dimple was showing because I could feel my half smile and see
J’s.
J raised one eye brow, sporting that crooked
smile I was coming to adore. “Maybe we could compare our coin
collections sometime?” Touché J, too-mutha-fuckin-shay. Either
Aaron’s pep talk, or the three beers and three shots were kicking
in, because I was definitely slipping into Clubbin’ Elle, or
Kitchen Elle, or some hybrid of both, and he was keeping up.
Niiiice.
“ Maybe sometime indeed,” I
replied.
“ How about tomorrow? I’m
assuming you don’t work at the restaurant since I see you at Eight
Oh Eight on Saturday nights.” Whoa, talk about going in for the
kill. Twice in one
grunge. I fed the machine the singles Larry and Jesse had given me,
and started from the beginning.
“ Needle and the Damage Done?
You want us crying in our beers, Elle?” I jumped defensively and
shoved the body behind me. “Hey, it’s just me, sweetheart,” J cooed
in my ear, holding his hands up in surrender.
“ Sorry, reflex.” I turned
back to the juke box. “Cinnamon Girl?”
“ That’s better. What else
you got?” J asked, leaning into me as I rested forward on to the
juke box. His body seemed even larger, as I was in flat shoes and
not heels. It felt as if I was engulfed in this giant of a man. I
picked another song. “Smile by Pearl Jam. So, you’re not all hip
hop I see.” That spurred me on. “Sheep? Did you really just play a
fifteen minute song?” I gave him a crooked smile and a wink. “What
do you know about Pink Floyd?” J asked, obviously
stunned.
I smiled up at him. “I know they sucked
after Roger Waters left the band, and that when he brought them his
original version of the Wall they told him it was “too dark” and
they changed some of it,” I told J, making air quotes. “Really, I’d
like to see how much darker the Wall could be. I also know that
Animals was one of their worst received albums on the radio, but is
the best in my opinion.”
“ Impressive,” J smiled wide.
We picked out some more songs. He picked something by Kid Rock I
didn’t know, and Purple Rain. Prince. OK, that impressed me. I
chose an Eagles track, Civil War by Guns n Roses, Color Me Once by
the Violent Femmes, and Love Hate Thing by Wale. I looked up at J
as I pressed the last buttons for the Wale song he had gotten me
off to at Eight Oh Eight. I could tell by the half smile on his
face he caught my innuendo.
“ You know it’s adorable when
you do that half smile? You get a little dimple right here,” J
said, putting his finger on my lone dimple and running it down my
jaw, my neck, and over my collar bone. I shivered.
“ Hmmm. Funny, I was thinking
you looked pretty sexy when you turned up one side of your mouth.
Makes me want to see what I can do to get the other side up.” Oh,
good one Elle. Those shots were kicking in.
I asked J if he got
his business taken
care of. “For now,” he replied cryptically. OK, so I’m not stupid.
I know what business is. Or at least, I know there are a variety of
things that can be business and none of them were legal. I did my
own business from
time to time, and for me, that meant slangin’ some weed to make
extra money when funds were low. Amidst the storm of bullshit that
came out of my mother’s mouth, there were a few droplets of wisdom
she imparted upon me, usually in the form of sayings. One of which
came to me while I sat with J at the table. If you ask a question, make sure you are prepared for all
possible answers . I decided I didn’t want
to know what his business was.
“ So J, what else do you
do?”
“ Are you asking me my
hobbies?”
“ Sure,” I
shrugged.
“ Well Elle, I like to
garden, collect rare coins, and visit national monuments. How about
you?” J responded sarcastically. Oh, I could pay this game
too.
“ Well J, I too like to
collect rare coins as well as quilt and, scrapbook.” Oh yeah,
scrapbooking was good. I mentally high fived myself. I’m sure my
dimple was showing because I could feel my half smile and see
J’s.
J raised one eye brow, sporting that crooked
smile I was coming to adore. “Maybe we could compare our coin
collections sometime?” Touché J, too-mutha-fuckin-shay. Either
Aaron’s pep talk, or the three beers and three shots were kicking
in, because I was definitely slipping into Clubbin’ Elle, or
Kitchen Elle, or some hybrid of both, and he was keeping up.
Niiiice.
“ Maybe sometime indeed,” I
replied.
“ How about tomorrow? I’m
assuming you don’t work at the restaurant since I see you at Eight
Oh Eight on Saturday nights.” Whoa, talk about going in for the
kill. Twice in one
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