Page 8 of Baby Girl

And it was working well.

ERIK. The beginning of the day was always the best part. It allowed me to look at an empty canvas, and see the day as being full of opportunities, and not necessities. I finished my work out, showered, ate breakfast, and got dressed. After deciding to ride the motorcycle, I wore the basic attire for the bike, jeans, tee-shirt, and boots. Eager to meet Kelli, and start the process of mind fucking her, I went to the garage and started the bike.

On the ride to the coffee shop, I began to plan the meeting. Kelli was young, and she was pretty, but she was not stupid. She acted as if she had an agenda. She appeared to have some form of determination to achieve whatever it was that she placed on her list of goals. Her body structure, stride, and posture indicated she exercised regularly. This form of discipline was attractive to me. She was attractive to me. Her personality type was a coin toss. She may be receptive, and easy to convince, or she may be a little more difficult, and take time. She would, without a doubt, eventually be eager to listen to my offerings and apply herself to obtain the results. Breaking her may be difficult. It was always important for me to find that breaking point, and back of a little bit. Knowing where the line was drawn was almighty important to the success of a good partnership.

I exited the highway onto Douglas Ave. and proceeded to Espresso A Go-Go. I wasn’t sure of what Kelli drove, but scanning the coffee shop produced no young women, so I assumed she had not arrived yet. Good, she was not overly eager. I glanced at my watch, 8:50. I waved at Warren through the window, and went in to get a coffee. In my recent adult life, coffee and women had become my two faults. Coffee to a greater degree than women, as I always felt as if I can go without women. Going without coffee would certainly lead to my early demise.

“Your regular, Erik?” he asked.

“Sure Warren, make it a large, I will be here for a while,” I handed his wife Ann the money for the coffee, and received my change and a receipt.

The coffee shop sat on the corner, and had two solid walls of windows facing the streets that approached it. I could see outside in all directions. Warren handed me my coffee, and went right back to developing his poison for the next customer. This place had a constant flow of customers in and out all day, and I enjoyed it for that reason - people watching at its best.

A girl in a Mini Cooper pulled past an SUV parked at the curb in front of the coffee shop. Hidden by a truck in front of the SUV for a mere second, it quickly backed up, and with precision, maneuvered into the space between the back of the truck and the front of the SUV. Parallel parking had become a lost art, and this girl had it down to a science. A she removed her sunglasses, I noticed it was Kelli. She got out of the car, noticed me through the glass, and began to walk to the door. Jean shorts, a tank and a light hoodie. Chucks. This girl didn’t know it, but she had dressed to impress. Simplicity made me weak.

When she entered, we shared a simple smile. After she ordered, she came and sat at the table. As I folded the receipt, and placed it on the table, I noticed her calf muscles as she stretched to get on the stool. Her hair smelled the way it did at the dealership. My nostrils filled with the smell of her hair and clean skin. A light perfume topped the neat, clean, presentable odor she offered.

“Good morning, Erik,” she said, extending a hand.

“Good morning, Kelli. What did you order?” I asked, grasping her hand lightly in mine.

“Cold brew. I love the coffee here, it’s like sex,” she responded.

“How so?” I asked.

“It’s extremely satisfying all by itself,” she said, smiling.

“I have three questions for you, Kelli, okay?”

“Okay,” she responded.

“Just answer them for now, they’re simple,” I stated.

“One, can you use chop sticks for their intended purpose?” I asked.

“Yes,” she responded, looking puzzled.

“Two, have you ever eaten a grapefruit, and if so, did you like it?”

“Yes, and yes,’ she responded as she frowned at me.

“Third, and last one. Have you ever, or would you consider, going on a date with an African American man,”

“I haven’t, not because I won’t, I don’t guess. Well, wow. Uhhm. Well, I suppose if I was attracted to a guy, and he was nice, I wouldn’t rule out anything. But I haven’t,” she responded as she looked at her well-manicured fingernails.

“How’d I do?” she asked, looking up from her fingernail inspection, smiling.

“You did fabulous, we will discuss it later,” I answered.

Warren handed her the coffee, and she responded with a “Thank you” lip movement. I stretched back in my chair and studied her body through the hoodie. She appeared to be in exceptional shape, but it was impossible to know her body structure for certain through the loose fitting hoodie.

“Everything okay?” she asked, looking puzzled over the top of her cup as she began to take a drink.

“Just fine. Observing, Kelli, that’s all.”

“I enjoyed your text last night,”

“That’s good. Let’s talk about that for a moment,” I responded, sitting back in my stool.