anime school I looked around. The person to who I’d asked was, or so I thought, a boy, maybe in high school, working his first job, sneakers, jeans, a baggy t-shirt under his apron, a ball cap, restocking the onions. But there was no one else around.
“I’m sorry?”
He turned around — rather, she turned around — to look at me. Glancing down my frame and back up to my face, she smiles and says, “I’m not doing anything Saturday night.”
anime school Now I always like to flirt mildly with the staff because I can throw them off — too easily. It’s fun for both me and them. And sometimes, like in a restaurant, I can score a better table or an extra appetizer. But it’s rare when one, especially a young one, beats me at my own game.
Regaining my composure, I said, “No. Medjool dates.”
“Follow me.”
She leads me over to a display of berries that were in season, and pointed to the dates on the lower shelf. No signage — how could I have missed them? She smiles, and apologizes for her earlier comment, saying, “I have a habit of just speaking my mind.”
“Not an entirely bad quality.”
“But it gets me into trouble sometimes.”
anime school She was cute. About five and a half tall. No discernible make-up, no manicured nails, a very wholesome face, with boyish clothes and personality to match. A tomboy. I don’t know why, but I’ve always had a place in my heart for tomboys.
“Well I find it a welcome change from the stale personalities I often find working in retail.”
“Thanks. I’m Tommie.” she says extending her hand. With a name like that, she really is a tomboy!
Taking her hand, “I’m Dave.” I am charmed, and I think I hold her hand just a little too long.
She breaks the pause with a,”Hope to see you again.”
anime school On the drive home, I’m thinking about her. Crazy. I’m more than twice her age. Just a harmless flirtation. And once home with my wife, it completely leaves my mind.
—
Some weeks later, I’m shopping again at the same store. “Dave!” I hear, as I’m browsing the cheeses.
