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“Whatever. Burger, 2 kinds of fries, pizza pockets.”
“Okay.” The waitress starts to move away.
“Hey, whoa wait. Where are you going?”
“Sorry.” The waitress moves back to the table. “Was there something else?”
“I never ordered dessert. I want a piece of chocolate cake. A big one. Like seriously, if you only have small slices, give me two. And I want ice cream on it. Lots of ice cream.”
The waitress is trying to hide behind her note pad. “Uh—huh.”
“And a bag of cookies. Half choc chip half walnut. At least ten.”
The waitress can only gasp as she scribbles towards the end of her notepad.
“Did you—Did you need a drink with that?”
“Yes! A hot chocolate. You know, the really fancy ones. Big tall cup. Whipped cream with chocolate flakes and a piece of flake sticking out. A few marshmallows wouldn’t hurt.”
The waitress now appears to be in a state of panic. I’m not sure what Roxy’s doing. Surely, she can’t eat all that food herself! Whatever game we’re playing, I’m enjoying it and I can certainly pay for the food.
“Anything else?” The waitress peeks over her notebook.
“Not right now. I’ll be wanting a chicken salad sandwich and a big bottle of lemonade to go before we leave.”
As the waitress flees the scene, I realize Roxy is stocking up on food. Some of this stuff is going to go into her backpack for later. That thought makes me incredibly sad.
“Where do you live, Roxy?”
“Huh? Oh, nowhere. I move around a lot. I did have a home for awhile, but now it’s gone. It’s safer not to have one.”
“Safer?”
She looks at me, eyes hard.
“Yes. Letting people get too close only fucks you up.”
The silence stretches and when the waitress puts plates down in front of us, I barely notice. Roxy does and breaks the stare to demolish four pizza pockets without taking a breath.
I sip my latte and take a tiny mouthful of cheesecake. I’ve never seen anyone eat like that. Most people I know eat slowly, like it’s a show. Roxy just fills her stomach. She doesn’t give a fuck who’s watching.
When the burger and fries arrive, I’m not even halfway through my cheesecake. When Roxy grabs it with both hands and tears into it, I feel my stomach flip. There is so much passion in her, a ravenous hunger…
Calm down, Helen.
I press my thighs together, trying not to think about Roxy’s ferocious appetite and how her lips devour the food.
I’m still slowly sipping my latte and eating my cheesecake a tiny bite at a time when Roxy demolishes her entire plate and the chocolate cake arrives. She’s finally slowed down now and eyes each bite of cake with appreciation before swallowing it.
I want to comment. Something about how she’s enjoying the food. But I’m afraid that it will show my ignorance to her situation. I can’t imagine what it must be like to get around not having enough money to eat.
“What do you do, Roxy?” I’m grasping at straws here, thinking she must have some kind of income. She shakes her head.
“No job. Like having no home. I just follow my instincts. Sometimes I’m a bouncer, some days I’m a waitress. Sometimes I sleep in a bed, sometimes not.”
I desperately want to ask about her family, but I can tell, that’s far too personal of a question. I know if she’s in this kind of circumstance, the family situation can’t be good.
As I finish my latte and chase around the final piece of cheesecake, I realize this is exactly the kind of woman I’m looking for. She’s opportunistic, needs the cash and will play any part I like. There’s nothing holding her down so she can go anywhere she wants.
