The Cafe

“Can’t you think of anything but sex?”
“I don’t know. I’ve never tried.”
“Next time I ride in a cab with you, I’ll wear a suit.”

 

I looked up at a battered neon sign as we entered the cafe. A pretty teenager looked up.

 

“Can I help you?”
“We’d like to speak to Mr. Wheeler.”
“He’s out.”
“We’ll wait. We’ve come rather a long way to see him.”

We found a table. It was hot and so smoky you could barely see the blonde in the far corner. The coffee arrived and the waiter leered at Anna.

“Someone should have warned you about the wolves, you’re really something.”
“At least she’s a girl, a four-letter word.”
“My, we’ve had a long winter and not much spring.”

 

The waiter drifted away, flapping.

To be continued…