Taste Tests II Ethan & Roxy
Ethan had agreed to meet Roxy by noon. They were meeting at Camden’s cafe. After a raging debate as to the merits of coffee at different temperatures, they had decided to settle it by actually drinking it. Roxy would try cold coffee, and he would try hot coffee. He was firmly on his guard, ready to defend the honour of his beloved cold coffee from all who would impugn it.
He sat at a table outside, under a bright pink parasol, and tried desperately to ignore its colour. He looked away, he closed his eyes, he closed his eyes and looked away, but nothing worked. Eventually, disgusted, he stood up, ready to sit inside the cafe. He looked at a clock on the wall. It was 11:55.
He went inside, pulling up a chair and sitting down. A pretty young waitress approached him, opening her mouth to ask him what he wanted, but he cut her off with an apologetic smile. “I’m sorry, I’m just waiting for a friend,” he said, grinning. “Could you come back in five minutes, please?”
She grinned back at him. She probably wasn’t used to customers being very nice. He had met plenty of barmaids who suffered at the hands of wealthy, spoiled, arrogant and drunk customers, and though this wasn’t a bar, people were the same everywhere. He had once waited tables while he was alive, in misguided attempts to stay on the straight and narrow. It had been a hard first lesson in human nature.
He was jolted from his reverie by the tinkling of the bells on the door, as it swung open to admit someone. The ‘someone’ in question was a gorgeous blonde who turned the heads of every man in the room, and some of the women, too. She walked confidently, like she knew full well the effect she had on people. She noticed him and made a beeline for his table. Ethan felt the glances following, and nearly flinched at the death glares sent his way. Then he smiled, basking in it. “Hello, Roxy,” he said, smiling lightly. “Ready?”