My baby makes hotcakes
And they come out tasting like glue
Oh lord my baby makes them hotcakes
And they hard as rubber too
But when her honey pot is flowing
There's nothing else I wanna do
The blues droned lazily from the phonograph and Lucinda wondered whether her shift would be over before she lost her shit and punched someone. A string of men with grabby hands and pinching fingers and no respect for the waitress. And Bobbi was out sick leaving the whole diner to be served by little ol' Lucinda.
When the stranger hopped off her motorbike and strolled into Ray's, The Nicest Place in Town, Lucinda plastered a pleasant smile across her lips like her job depended on it, and said, "Howdy ma'am, what can I get you?"
The stranger paused, looked Lucinda up and down, and said, "What's good today?" Her skin was glowing, her lips slightly moist, and Lucinda found herself wondering just what this woman was doing in town.
"Cook makes the best..." she began gamely, but the stranger interrupted.
"No, no, I'm asking you. What is good about your life today?"
The diner was crowded, but to Lucinda it was as if all the noise had fallen away and she was alone with the stranger. "Not much," she admitted.
The stranger smiled. "I believe I'll have you, naked, drizzled in honey, and I'll take it to go," she said.
Lucinda grinned. "Billy Ray, I quit!" she shouted, then flung her apron from her like the chains of servitude broken. Half an hour later, as she spread her legs for yet another helping of honey spooned over her dripping pussy, she wondered just who this stranger was, but it didn't matter much.
I don't know. You come here expecting me to explain, and all I can do is say that Lucinda just happened. I started out with a completely different idea, where the husband doesn't think sugar is healthy and his wife convinces him otherwise, something like that, but it wasn't working. And then there was an imaginary song on an imaginary radio, and Lucinda was having a bad day and it seemed like she could use something different. The stranger isn't an author-insert, but I certainly arranged for her to arrive when she did.
Speaking of things just happening, it might seem like Flash Fiction Friday just happens every week, but what is involved is a fair amount of effort from Max to bring us the image and the rules, then a certain amount of work from those who participate to bring the image to life in words. Don't take it for granted. Max is awesome for doing it every week, but the way to pay him back is to join in and write something, because it's so much more fun with more people. Why not head over to his blog and check out the rules this week. There's still plenty of time to get one in, as the sailor said to the girl.
Awesome read! I certainly enjoyed it. ^_^ I think some of the best writing happens when it's unplanned. Hope you're doing well. : )
ReplyDeleteI love this take. You paint a lovely picture in just a few words.
ReplyDeleteI had an experience something like this a few years ago (but no sex and no one quit their job.) I was at a diner, and the waitress was clearly having a bad day. She came by to re-fill my coffee, and I said "How are you doing?" She said "Fine thanks" with a painted on smile. I said "Are you sure?", and it was like her face shattered into a thousand pieces. She talked quietly and said the big loud table in the corner was the owner's family. I said some sympathetic words, and she gave me the heart-felt smile of someone who'd been noticed and treated with a small kindness for the first time in a long time. She gave me an affectionate shoulder squeeze the next time she passed by. I left the largest tip I've ever left on the way out.
Max
If these lyrics don't show up in your next musical, I'll be sorely disappointed.
ReplyDeleteWhat a fantastic idea, to find that special someone and just ditch everything and run off. Sighhhhhh, what a wonderful idea. Even if it's just for the long weekend.
xoxo