Post by goldenmyst on May 28, 2021 18:00:22 GMT -6
Charleston Night at the Coffee Shop
“What’s going on here?”
“The boss can’t afford a Christmas bonus so we took the matter into our own hands. This is Charleston night at the coffee shop. We dress like flappers and relive the roaring twenties. The customers tip us by throwing dollars. Pretty creative don’t you think?”
My eyes follow the girl with the magic belly button where she finds her calling as a flapper girl doing the Charleston surrounded by burlap sacks of coffee beans with her hips swinging to the beat of ragtime turned jazz which plays on the sound system. The prize for the biggest tipper is bags of ground coffee beans which are set in a circle around her. Her wild-haired seduction wins dollars for something other than brew.
Her waggish cackle is ticklish to the ear with the British charm of a peasant girl raised on tongue in cheek earthiness.
Some pay only cover charge to witness her performance. But she appreciates patrons who tip in addition to paying the price of admission.
“John, as the gatekeeper I must ask you to quit staring so fixedly. Just kidding. But really join me outside the circus atmosphere at the deserted space over there.”
“Your invitation is most welcome. But I’ve never conversed with you. What will we talk about?”
“You are a riddle. I see you come here every day and act all shy and quiet. But you spend an inordinate amount of time texting on your phone. Do you have a secret paramour or even girlfriend, maybe even a wife whom you check in with while here? Why don’t you take her to our place? The coffee shop legend has it that once you brought a blind lady with you. She held your arm. Is she hearing your messages through audio? Is she the one?”
“The tale of my friendship with the lady you speak of ended on a bittersweet note. Such memories are best left in the past.”
“Did you break her heart? I can’t see you doing that.”
“My intentions were amicable to be her friend. She read more into our fellowship than hanging out together.”
“I’ll have to warn the other girls here not to fall in love with you.”
“I don’t see myself wooing women half my age.”
“At the rate you are going with sticking to just the order I don’t see that happening anytime soon.”
“You see I am a heart safe zone. No danger from me. This chat with you is the most I’ve ever had here.”
“I had to pry all this out of you. I would promise not to invade your privacy but that would be closing the gate after the horses are running free.”
“Let me contribute to the Charleston dancer college fund with my dollars. She looks eager for donations.”
“Are you implying that she is flaunting herself for money?”
“Only in a respectable way with virtue intact.”
“I approve of your spectatorship. But I don’t expect you’ll win the coffee. Even virtuous women need more greenbacks to part with the prize.”
“What’s going on here?”
“The boss can’t afford a Christmas bonus so we took the matter into our own hands. This is Charleston night at the coffee shop. We dress like flappers and relive the roaring twenties. The customers tip us by throwing dollars. Pretty creative don’t you think?”
My eyes follow the girl with the magic belly button where she finds her calling as a flapper girl doing the Charleston surrounded by burlap sacks of coffee beans with her hips swinging to the beat of ragtime turned jazz which plays on the sound system. The prize for the biggest tipper is bags of ground coffee beans which are set in a circle around her. Her wild-haired seduction wins dollars for something other than brew.
Her waggish cackle is ticklish to the ear with the British charm of a peasant girl raised on tongue in cheek earthiness.
Some pay only cover charge to witness her performance. But she appreciates patrons who tip in addition to paying the price of admission.
“John, as the gatekeeper I must ask you to quit staring so fixedly. Just kidding. But really join me outside the circus atmosphere at the deserted space over there.”
“Your invitation is most welcome. But I’ve never conversed with you. What will we talk about?”
“You are a riddle. I see you come here every day and act all shy and quiet. But you spend an inordinate amount of time texting on your phone. Do you have a secret paramour or even girlfriend, maybe even a wife whom you check in with while here? Why don’t you take her to our place? The coffee shop legend has it that once you brought a blind lady with you. She held your arm. Is she hearing your messages through audio? Is she the one?”
“The tale of my friendship with the lady you speak of ended on a bittersweet note. Such memories are best left in the past.”
“Did you break her heart? I can’t see you doing that.”
“My intentions were amicable to be her friend. She read more into our fellowship than hanging out together.”
“I’ll have to warn the other girls here not to fall in love with you.”
“I don’t see myself wooing women half my age.”
“At the rate you are going with sticking to just the order I don’t see that happening anytime soon.”
“You see I am a heart safe zone. No danger from me. This chat with you is the most I’ve ever had here.”
“I had to pry all this out of you. I would promise not to invade your privacy but that would be closing the gate after the horses are running free.”
“Let me contribute to the Charleston dancer college fund with my dollars. She looks eager for donations.”
“Are you implying that she is flaunting herself for money?”
“Only in a respectable way with virtue intact.”
“I approve of your spectatorship. But I don’t expect you’ll win the coffee. Even virtuous women need more greenbacks to part with the prize.”
