"You gotta lot a tattoos for a girl," he drawls.
His eyes play hopscotch with my breasts.
Handing his doubleshot americano over.
"How many tattoos should a girl have?"
He shrugs, sliding a sleeve over his coffee.
"Don't get me wrong. I like a girl with a lot of tattoos."
"Me too," I tell him, beginning my next drink.
Out of the corner of my eye I see him lingering, watching me work.
When I turn back, he's gone.
On the counter a paper with his name and number on it.
Deftly, I drop it in the trash.
Moving on.
D.M. over 8 years ago
'Enjoyed the conversation and, especially, the ending.
Alastair Howie over 8 years ago
"His eyes played hopscotch with my breasts!" Brilliant!