At The Corner Of Beech/Maple

They met at the corner of Beech and Maple at a tiny diner known for delicious late night food and terrible coffee. He was sitting alone, cross legged, surprisingly engulfed in an old issue of Time Magazine. In his hand was a pen that he twirled nervously throughout his fingers. Perhaps he was completing a crossword puzzle, she thought to herself as she slowly moved towards his booth. It was a smaller booth, perhaps designed for the couple who had no intention of seizing their meaningless small talk, plates of runny fried eggs, and coffee. She noticed that he had ordered a cup of coffee; black, as she had suspected, and a piece of apple pie. The pie however, remained untouched as a steady stream of steam filled the air.

"Hello, Matson." she smiled as she sat in the booth directly across from him. "Oh hey Jess, I didn't see you walk in," he replied as he placed the tattered magazine onto the table. "Have you been waiting long?" she inquired as their waitress appeared with a pot of coffee and a menu. "What can I get for you dear?" "I'll take a Diet Coke, please." "Coming right up", she sang as she waltzed behind the counter fetching a tall red cup that displayed the words "Coca Cola" in white cursive lettering.

She was in her early twenties she assumed; slinging tips to help pay for her college education. Although she appeared tired, her radiant smile brightened the room. She was soft spoken and clearly had no problem meeting men. She was about 5'8, slender, and had long blonde hair that twisted in a braid across her back. "She's a looker, huh", Matson proclaimed clearly aware that Jess was envious of the young waitress. "To have my youth back", she replied as cleared the table of spilled salt. "They seem to have the world in front of them."

"I don't think you have anything to worry about Jess." "And what's that supposed to mean Matson?" she giggled. "It means that you have nothing to worry about. Being young is simply temporary. In a few years she will find herself staring at a younger girl, wishing for the same things you find yourself wishing for. And hell, what are you like 31?" He laughed as he took a long sip of coffee. "Ugh, this coffee is terrible." he concluded as he placed the beige mug onto the table.

"Why did you bring me here, Matson?" she stared, wide-eyed. "I must admit that my motives may not be exactly righteous. I need your help," he sighed. As if someone had slapped her back unexpectedly, air escaped her lungs. Her stomach ached and suddenly she felt her face grow warm from embarrassment. How foolish she thought, to believe that she, a thirty something year old, had a chance with a successful detective! Nervously, she shuffled her feet beneath the table; something she had done since she was a little girl. "Oh, what is it that you need Matson?"

"I hope your not upset, Jess. I don't want to send you the wrong message."  Although his voice was sincere,  she couldn't help but feel insecure, and as she stared deep into his eyes she wished a man would desire her. "No, Matson, don't worry about it! Your not sending me the wrong message!" Oh, I hope you don't realize I'm lying, she thought to herself. As a detective Matson had become keen on body language, and realized she had thought this 'date' was indeed something much more. "Ok, let's talk then", he suggested, clearly aware that he too, was lying.

Pinterest/Diner