Sunday, August 3, 2025

Coffee and buttered roll Aug. 4, 2025


She was the waitress that served me coffee and a buttered roll each morning before I boarded the bus to my warehouse job in Fairfield, who lived in a rooming house next to the rooming house where I lived, although her place had no doors to any of the rooms, and an elderly woman who strolled the corridors to make sure no hanky panky went out (at least, none that wasn’t paid for).

I still stinging from my breakup from a wife who brought strange me home while we were married, sometimes many more than one.

This girl told me how she wanted to escape her circumstances, be free of the watchdog wandering the halls, boasting about having nearly every member of the city council as her clients (men and woman) as well as the mayor, asking me would I do for her what the watchdog did, splitting the fee with me, along with other benefits, when all I really wanted was to bring her back to my room next door and a bit of privacy since my room had doors when hers did not.

We laying side by side, while I ached for something more than a kiss, which she would not give until I agreed to take the whole package, and though tempted, I didn’t trust it and refused, only to hear the wail of sirens a short time later, her, her watchdog and the mayor being escorted out of the rooming house next door in handcuffs, and me, regretting not having taken her up on her offer while I could, missing her each morning on my way to work, when a man with hairy knuckles served me coffee and buttered roll instead.

 



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