If she wasn’t 6 feet tall, she was very close. She came into the café where I was reading. She was an attractive Chinese woman, but getting a bit older. I’d guess around 40. She was very loud.

At first I thought she must be retarded, crazy, or on drugs, but after she ordered a small bottle of baijiu, I realized she was a bit drunk. She plopped down at a table to my left, so it was difficult for me to get a good look at her, or make eye contact. She was slender and had a pretty face. She sat slightly off kilter with her long legs splayed apart below the table. She drank the baijiu straight from the bottle, ignoring the tiny cup the waiter brought her.

She talked seemingly to no one, or maybe to everyone. It was hard to tell. She discussed the menu with her waiter for 5-10 minutes before ordering. Then she got up and made some loud comments about a framed calligraphy hanging on the wall. She was sexy as hell.

I had visions of going back to her place for a wild afternoon ride. She would be crazy in bed, untamed and completely uninhibited. I knew after we finished making love every blanket and pillow would be on the floor, every picture knocked from the wall, and all her knick-knacks off their shelves. I imagined those long thin legs wrapped around me in various positions. After, we would fall asleep and wake up an hour or so later stuck together from the many bodily fluids we exchanged during our romp. I figured I still could get home well before dinner time.

Alas, that was not to happen. A man entered the café. He was much shorter than the woman, but I immediately knew they were together. His face was unnaturally red. He had large bags under his bloodshot eyes. Sure enough, he joined her.

A couple of minutes later the waiter brought their food. I left.

 

Advertisements