Sage and Sass

Sage and sassy wanderings of a curious mind.

a glimpse into the book I am writing. June 2, 2011

This is from the first chapter, just a little sneak peak.  What do ya think?  Intrigued???

I will never forget the night I first laid eyes on him. I was waiting tables at a chain style restaurant with a 50’s theme that stayed open late to accommodate the “last call” crowd. It was my “spending money” job. Tips weren’t that great but then it didn’t require a lot of brain power and I didn’t spend much. They gave you two choices for uniform, Sandy or Rizzo. I was definitely not the poodle skirt type back then so my choice was Rizzo all the way. Usually I wore black spandex pants or skirt, (Arizona is too hot for anything remotely resembling leather) white button down shirt with rolled sleeves, a red chiffon neck scarf and black motorcycle boots. Ok, so the boots were a break from the theme but they were mine, comfortable and I wore them religiously. They were my rebellion against high heels and gave me a sense of toughness I desperately needed in my younger days. I still have the bag I carried all my junk around in that said “what would you do?” on one side with “I’d ban high heels and teach the world to groove” on the other. I love that bag. The cool thing about being Rizzo is it gave you a certain amount of freedom to screw with people and flirt with the guys that a poodle skirt just did not encourage. Occasionally it even increased your tips to give people a hard time. At two am, after standing on my feet cutting hair all day and slinging hash all night, I really appreciated this strange phenomenon. You want sarcasm with that burger, you’ve come to the right place.

I had a small group of 3 guys that would always request my table. I was happy to have them. They, unlike the majority of our late nighters, were always sober. They were bouncers from a nightclub around the corner and fabulous tippers. Keep their drinks full and flirt a little bit and we all went home happy. So this one unusually slow Friday night, Larry, Moe and Curly, as I affectionately referred to them, came strutting in to get their midnight snacks. I am terrible with names. I couldn’t then and still can’t tell you what any of their names were. Believe me they gave the Three Stooges a run for their money in the juvenile department, so the names stuck. I wasn’t busy so I grabbed some menus and headed over to greet and seat them. Moe, because he was the ring leader, not because he resembled the “real” Moe, picked me up in a bear hug and spun me around until I was dizzy. He thought the part where I had to grab onto him to keep from falling was particularly funny. I was not as delighted by it as he was but it was much more preferrable than a drunken slap on the behind.

“Hey little darlin, what’s shakin’ “? he said as I waited for my head to clear. “Nuthin til now you big lug, but thanks to you my head is spinning.” I replied with a little jab to his oh so fabulously muscled bicep. Goodness but that man had an incredible body. Cute too, think Jon Bon Jovi in Mr. Universe form. He was too childish for my taste but a welcome distraction to look at. “You want your usual table big guy”? I asked with a grin. “You know it sweet cheeks”. He said with a wink and a glance to my backside making it very clear he didn’t mean the ones on my face. “Up here dude, up here”, I said making a circling motion at the level of my eyes. “I’m sorry sweet cheeks, I was a little distracted, did you say something”? he replied grinning from ear to ear. “Brother”, I moaned. “Can’t you guys keep him on a leash”?, I whined to Larry and Curly.

And that is when it happened. I looked in their direction and discovered that standing right behind them was the most beautiful man I had ever seen up close and personal. He was about 6’4″, muscular but not in a body builder sense. His skin was light tawny brown and he had a wide open face that was both friendly and guarded. His eyes were large, almond-shaped, the color of finely aged whiskey. He had just the very beginning of tiny laugh lines around the outside of them that made you question whether he really was as intimidating as his overall persona indicated. Those deep, soulful eyes drew you in, made you want to take a step just a little closer to him, dare to find out what would happen if you ventured into his personal space. I remember thinking that if I kept looking into them I would lose myself completely. I also remember not caring. He had a full Fu Manchu going on that added to the tough guy image he was putting out but even that was betrayed by the most adorable, almost shy, little boy grin. It was the only hair on his head, the rest was clean, shaved completely. I had first thought this was yet another addition to the carefully cultivated persona but later learned it was out of insecurity over a prematurely receding hairline. He unnerved me completely. Never, ever,  trust a first impression that takes your breath away.