The best part of the cheeseburger were the onions. He loved them. Raw or cooked, yellow, green, sweet or pearl, he was a fan of them all.
In his moment of rapture, a greasy glob of ketchup and mustard slid down his chin and onto his shirt pocket. He used his forefinger to scoop it up. He scanned the bistro’s table but found no napkin. Silently, angrily, he cursed the waitress and licked it off.
With a sigh, he plucked the phone number, of a women he never met, from his soiled pocket. His brother’s wife put him up to this. He dialed the digits, but hesitated to hit the send button. He stared at his cell.
‘What is that rancid smell? Is that my breath?” He sniffed the bottom of his phone and smelled nothing. To make sure it wasn’t halitosis he huffed on the cell and whiffed. This he did a couple of more times to convince himself.
He realized there was a voice coming from his device. Hurriedly, he put it to his ear and started to say, “Hello”. An outraged woman’s voice said, “.........and don’t call here again! PERVERT!” With a beep, the call was disengaged.
All Writing.Com images are copyrighted and may not be copied / modified in any way. All other brand names & trademarks are owned by their respective companies.
Generated in 0.17 seconds at 10:05pm on Mar 28, 2024 via server web1.