Page 32 of Money Shot

SIENNA

November 9th,2014

With perfect hair, perfect nails, perfect makeup, a great pair of jeans, a bad ass pair of 2” heels, and a sweet as fuck wool coat, I raced through traffic as I alternated glances between the road and my rearview mirror.

My eyebrows looked reasonable, as always.

As The Eurythmics “Winter Wonderland” blared out of the speakers, I weaved in and out of traffic with my typical five minutes to spare and four minutes of driving left. While stuck at a traffic light, I once again checked my eyebrows in the mirror.

I looked like I had turned a three year old loose on my face with a molten brown crayon. I seemed to never get my eyebrows to reach the point of perfection. The light flashed green just as Bryan Adam’s “Run Rudolph Run” began to play.

Now that’s more like it.

I mashed the gas, lurched through the intersection, and quickly changed lanes in front of the old man in the pickup truck who had been beside me for the entire trip. After another lead-footed display of the Continental’s awesome power I was far enough ahead of him not to raise his temper, so I hit the brakes and turned right into the Bradley Fair shopping center. A quick scan of the parking lot and I found the perfect spot - on the end and in the front.

No door dings for Sienna.

I pulled in the spot, hugging the far side for safety’s sake. I shut off the engine, opened the glove box, and flipped the switch to the stereo. Vince’s bike was parked up front by the door on the sidewalk.

A quick glance in the mirror further confirmed I was nothing short of a spastic eyebrow plucking idiot, so I opened the door and began my shameful walk to what I was certain to be the impending death of our six month old friendship.

Death by bad eyebrows.

I pushed the door open and glanced toward the seating area.

Sitting immediately beside the door on a long leather bench, Vince tapped the face of his watch with his index finger.

“Sorry, I was early,” he said. “This thing’s hit and miss. I thought I had it fixed, but it quit again. I didn’t want to be late, and I wasn’t sure what time it was, so…”

“Well, by my clock in the Lincoln, I was one minute early,” I bragged.

“Pretty typical,” he said. “I have no idea how you do it with consistency.”

“I wait down the block until there’s one minute left, then I haul ass to where we’re meeting,” I said.

He nodded his head. “Wouldn’t surprise me.”

His beard was full, typical of what most men with beards do for winter time, I supposed. He had on a black canvas jacket over a long-sleeved khaki shirt, and a black stocking cap pulled down low on his head. The jeans he was wearing were perfectly worn, from wearing them, not because he bought them that way. I admired him as he stood, wondering how he got each and every hole in them, and just what it was that happened to cut the hole above his right knee.

He interested me so much it made me sick.

“I’m following you,” he said as he pointed into the restaurant.

I walked through the restaurant toward the blazing fireplace. It wasn’t quite winter yet, but it was much cooler than what we had been used to, and was just a few degrees shy of fifty.

Vince had picked a time that was well after lunch, but a few hours before dinner. Because it wasn’t necessarily the holiday season just yet, the restaurant, short of us and one other couple, was empty. Being almost alone with Vince was enough of a change to fool me into thinking we were on a romantic date, and I was pretty sure after I got my book reviews done for the night, I would pleasure myself daydreaming about it.

“I like it here by the fireplace,” I said as I flopped into the seat.

“Your hair looks nice,” he said as he sat down.

“Oh, thank you,” I said.

“So do your heels,” he said. “I like heels with jeans.”

“I just grabbed what was at the end of the closet, thanks,” I said.

Actually, I had spent almost an hour trying on shoes and trying to pick the perfect pair. Some made me look ridiculous, some for whatever reason seemed to no longer fit, and a few of the others killed my feet. This particular pair of 2” black heels felt great, looked great, and didn’t break the bank when I bought them.