I drive into the little stall, briefly peruse the menu to see if they've added anything relatively healthy and/or anything new that sounds better than a cheeseburger. Alas they have not. And there is no mention of the macaroni and cheese bites that the wee one has fallen head over heels in love with.
I order the Wacky pack chicken strips and tots for the kiddo, the cheese burger combos for my love and myself and then I inquire politely about the missing mac and cheese bites. They no longer serve them, but the order boy with his deep voice and deceptively mature sound introduces me to his utter lust for their new cinnabites. As he describes them as soft, warm, puffy bites of cinnamon and frosting, I see in my head the white dribbles of sweet frosting dripping from his mouth and fingers as he smiles and reaches up to lick his fingers rather than reach for a napkin. WTF? (me thinks I need to stop dreaming about it and start getting laid more often!)
I giggle and say no thanks. He repeats back the order to make sure he has it correct and I'm wondering what a man who has such a great voice and a fine attention to detail is doing working here. He should be working for me. He asks me how I 'll be paying for my meal and though I'm tempted to say something very different, I palm my visa and tell him I'll slide my card at the order station. He tells me it'll be out in a moment and that's when things get interesting... to say the least.
Order boy: Well... you have yourself a super sonic evening.
SD: Thank you, you do the same.
Order boy: I will...(hesitation) well... at least I'll try.... if you will
SD: Ok then... I'll try too, really.
Order boy: (soft laughter) wow... guess we're in for a great night.
SD: I certainly hope so. (cue more soft laughter)
Order boy: me too.
I sit in the darkened car waiting a moment listening to The Fray's "Over your head" and that makes me giggle. Order boy personally brings dinner to my car and the first thing I notice is that he's fucking hot. Dark tanned in the middle of winter always does it for me, that 5 o'clock shadow is sexy and those eyes... deep pools of shimmering chocolate. And he's about 15 years younger than I am. And he doesn't seem to care, as I'm juggling cups of soda and he's towering above me looking down at me, down my shirt, and then he's offering to take my empty starbucks cup to the trash. And I think I see a wink, as I tip him nicely and he thanks me and once again tells me in that low slow drawl to have a super sonic nite. You betcha boy... anytime.
Next you know I'll be turning forty and trolling cougar websites looking for boys half my age.
