There are fewer things in life more beautiful than a well crafted buffalo chicken cheese steak with a side of seasoned french fries. Last week I was lucky enough to stumble upon one of these things.
The late April sun was determined to bake me alive last Friday afternoon as I waltzed around on Main Street. I arranged to meet with my future landlord at four o’clock so naturally I left at 3:15 so I wouldn’t be late. Today was unusaully boring; traffic was non existent, the sidewalks were vacant, and the occaisonal sound of bird chirping cut through the silence outside. I guess everyone went home or something. Managing to kill 45 minutes I finally headed to the meeting place. My future landlord, Randy, asked me to meet him at Smitty’s Steaks. Smitty’s is a quaint Mom and Pop cheese steak place that sells wonderful food at a reasonable price. The greasy aroma of frying meat aroused my tastebuds as I entered the cozy restuarant.
Swiftly I slide into corner booth on the left. The clock on the wall read 3:51pm so Randy would be here shortly. I sunk my head down at the table and journeyed off into la la land. That’s when it happend.
“Hi! Welcome to Smitty’s! How are you?!”
The question took me off guard as I snapped back to reality. Then I stupidly looked up at the waitress who was still waiting for a response.
“Umm uh good.”
Oh. My. God. This waitress was ridiculously gorgeous. Her loose dirty blonde hair reminded of a wild lions maine. I’ve always had a weakness for blondes… and lions. My cheeks started to glow red when I realized my shirt was absurdely wrinkled. Did I put on deodorant today?
She clearly picked up on my sudden embrassment and flashed me a gleaming white smile. “So what would you like today?”
“Yes, how about your unconditional love with a side of marriage?” – is what I was tempted to say.
In actuality: “Oh uhh, I’m meeting someone here so I’m good.” I fumbled over the words nervously. Jesus, she probably thinks I’m an idiot.
“Okay! I’ll be here if you change your mind honey” she enthuasically declared before disappearing to the back kitchen. Did you hear that! She called me “honey”! She must like me! My mind raced forward 22 years in the future with us a happy couple, three adorable mixed raced childern living in a cookie cutter house in a cal de sac nested in the mountains of the Pennslyvania subarbs.
WAIT. I NEVER GOT HER NAME! Nooooooooooo! My fantasies were quickly crushed under the cruel weight of reality. For now I will call her Cheese Steak Sally.
I LOVE YOU CHEESE STEAK SALLY!!! ❤ – Barry