Chuck was still pondering a man’s painted toes when Queenie walked in.
“What is up, Chuck,” she said, pulling out the wooden chair directly across from him. The chair made fingernails-on-chalkboard sounds as it scraped along the floor’s heavily textured tiles. Queenie plopped down and lifted the chair while skooching closer to the table. “Damn, man! That’s some kinda ‘noxious noise, ain’t it? Sorta ruins the whole mellow vibe, dontcha think? All these chairs screeching?”
Chuck grinned and nodded and said, “Can I get one of
your trademark chai lattes for you, Helen?” He was the only person in her acquaintance
authorized to use her given name, because Queenie somehow found her given name magnificent
whenever Chuck said it.
“Well, ain’t you the fuckin’ gentleman, gentle man. That’s the best offer I’ve had all year. Only, get this, Charles, I’ve moved on in life: I’m doin’ dark-chocolate raspberry mochas these days—if the offer’s still good.”
“That sounded so tempting I got me one, too,” Chuck was saying six minutes later.
“Nectar of the goddamn gods,” Queenie said, “and don’t go scrapin’ that chair.”
Chuck gingerly completed the process of sitting back down, swept his half-drained iced tea a few inches to the left, and took a generous swig of his inaugural dark-chocolate raspberry mocha. “Wow! That’s really fantastic.”
“You damn right, Mr. Farley,” Queenie said. “A seriously bangin’ beverage.”
Chuck sat sipping and savoring for thirty or forty seconds before pointing to an empty table. “Just before you came in, a man, a woman, and a young boy were sitting right there. I couldn’t hear everything they were saying, but they were talking cordially and laughing and so on, and after a while I realized that the man evidently was returning the boy to the mother after an overnight stay, and I thought how sad that was, you know, that they were divorced and all, because they made what seemed to be a really sweet family.”
Queenie flashed Chuck the cut-to-the-chase face he’d seen a thousand times. “Yeah, life’s a bitch, baby. So what else is new?”
Chuck chuckled and replied, “Well, what else is new is that when their little party broke up and they were saying their good-byes I noticed that the man was wearing sandals and that his toe nails were painted a vibrant pink—with sparkles.”
“No lie?” Queenie said. “Pardon the pun, but that sure paints a whole ‘nother picture.”
Chuck watched Queenie’s attention shift suddenly to the door. “Hey! Over here!” she shouted. Nearly everyone in the café looked toward Queenie and then toward the young woman for whom Queenie’s flailing waving clearly was intended.
Crystal waved back and beamed and threaded her way to their table.
“Chuck,” Queenie began, as Chuck was rising from his chair, “this here’s Crystal, the young woman I told you about. Crystal, this here’s Chuck Farley.”
“You didn’t tell me Crystal was drop-dead gorgeous, Helen,” Chuck said, directing a lavish smile Crystal’s way. “Glad to meet you, Crystal.”
“Same here,” Crystal said, blushing to beat the band—until, like a chameleon or a cuttlefish or a peacock flounder, she went from beet-red to bone-white as a snot bubble erupted from her nose.
“Well, ain’t you the fuckin’ gentleman, gentle man. That’s the best offer I’ve had all year. Only, get this, Charles, I’ve moved on in life: I’m doin’ dark-chocolate raspberry mochas these days—if the offer’s still good.”
“That sounded so tempting I got me one, too,” Chuck was saying six minutes later.
“Nectar of the goddamn gods,” Queenie said, “and don’t go scrapin’ that chair.”
Chuck gingerly completed the process of sitting back down, swept his half-drained iced tea a few inches to the left, and took a generous swig of his inaugural dark-chocolate raspberry mocha. “Wow! That’s really fantastic.”
“You damn right, Mr. Farley,” Queenie said. “A seriously bangin’ beverage.”
Chuck sat sipping and savoring for thirty or forty seconds before pointing to an empty table. “Just before you came in, a man, a woman, and a young boy were sitting right there. I couldn’t hear everything they were saying, but they were talking cordially and laughing and so on, and after a while I realized that the man evidently was returning the boy to the mother after an overnight stay, and I thought how sad that was, you know, that they were divorced and all, because they made what seemed to be a really sweet family.”
Queenie flashed Chuck the cut-to-the-chase face he’d seen a thousand times. “Yeah, life’s a bitch, baby. So what else is new?”
Chuck chuckled and replied, “Well, what else is new is that when their little party broke up and they were saying their good-byes I noticed that the man was wearing sandals and that his toe nails were painted a vibrant pink—with sparkles.”
“No lie?” Queenie said. “Pardon the pun, but that sure paints a whole ‘nother picture.”
Chuck watched Queenie’s attention shift suddenly to the door. “Hey! Over here!” she shouted. Nearly everyone in the café looked toward Queenie and then toward the young woman for whom Queenie’s flailing waving clearly was intended.
Crystal waved back and beamed and threaded her way to their table.
“Chuck,” Queenie began, as Chuck was rising from his chair, “this here’s Crystal, the young woman I told you about. Crystal, this here’s Chuck Farley.”
“You didn’t tell me Crystal was drop-dead gorgeous, Helen,” Chuck said, directing a lavish smile Crystal’s way. “Glad to meet you, Crystal.”
“Same here,” Crystal said, blushing to beat the band—until, like a chameleon or a cuttlefish or a peacock flounder, she went from beet-red to bone-white as a snot bubble erupted from her nose.
# # #
Welcome back! So happy to see you. This sounds very familiar but does not mean I like it less than all that's come before. Hope this means you are up and writing again. I may be up and writing again soon as well. Lots of things swirling in my brain, so felt it very prescient of you to show up in my inbox.
ReplyDeleteThanks for reading this. I'm not surprised I could count on you. I was wanting to get Chuck and Crystal together, but I'm not quite happy with this one, but so what. Better sorry than safe(ly doing nothing). I don't have enough to do at work, and this made the time go by for a while. If you read it before 4:00 Central today it probably wasn't the final version. Best regards ALWAYS, and thanks again.
Delete