Just Wait

In just a moment she will walk through that door. I can imagine her stride and the path she will take. Several possible ensembles exist. Still, I am willing to bet that she will wear a pair of tight fit jeans and a shirt with the cleavage filled in. She will pause at the entry way and scan the room. Upon finding me she will smile, move her hair and walk toward me. Scratch that, she will probably have her hair tied up.

I dip my thumb in the chilled water- run it over the rim of the glass- but no sound; just that irritating mandolin music. God damned hippies… for all their handcrafted organic bullshit, they sure can choose some lame glasses to put my water in. These things aren’t worth the condensation that I’m drawing these little swirls’ in. I check the door. I check my phone. She still isn’t here.