Man, did you see that ass today! I said to myself, “This is the place man! I will come again and again to this café.”

The chicken pie was a dream, the Coke was so criminally chilled I thought I might go to hell for my indulgence; Cool, dimly-lit ambient space, soulful music, I mean Music with a “M”, cascading so gently out of the muffled unseen speakers, fine aromatic oil burning with that heavenly scent. I am so inspired I can cry right now.

Haven done added to my karmic burden for my hedonistic indulgence, and feeling like I can fly, I walked up to her- from behind- with my eyes cross-haired on the cleavage Le Bon Deux has so masterfully carved on that thing her mama gave her. It was marvelous in my eyes. A lot of things are Nature’s gift to men, this masterpiece of arse was a lot of things to my mind. But I bungled it.

It was tempting to touch, but I didn’t touch it. I didn’t get the chance to touch it. She got up and stood straight, as I started to yammer “when do you go for lunch?”. That was a wrong pick up line. The look on her face was like “???Excuse me???”. My Blackberry beeped just then (talk about being saved by the bell) For loss of what to say further, I took my lusty eyes off her and pasted them on the screen of my BB. Spell “embarrass”, that was my name that awkward moment. I didn’t mean to say the wrong things, but those stupid words just came thumbling and fumbling out. “When do you go for lunch?”. Dohh!

I have a “tried and true” pick up line that works, I only just forgot it ni. I should have asked her for her number (matic number), or her pin (hairpin), or her mother’s maiden name, for that matter. That should have worked better than that silliest of questions about lunch breaks.

She got a pretty face, the kinda face I will want to put on my night nurse. The very kinda face I want to wake up to see lying next to me every cock-crow at dawn. Maybe I should off asked her to marry me. But such good-thinkings never occur to you when you needed them in such dire straits like I found my self in today.

Well, I’ve accomplished much for one day, at any rate. At least I’ve fed my famished body, my needy soul, my yearning spirit, and my lusty eyes. I feel fulfilled also that I have made a mistake. A mistake to learn from and be a better man when I grow up, if I grow up. Now I need not learn from other folks mistakes for a week at most. I got enough of my own to give me a PhD if I should care to learn from them.

I will certainly go back to La Caféteria De Musé tomorrow. I hope tomorrow comes, and if it comes, is not miss Fanny’s off day. I hope, and I pray.


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