“Good morning!” She says, shining those eyes at me, “what
can I get you?”
There is something artificial here, but her charm captures
me nonetheless. Her face, flushed from the heat and caffeine, stirs the man in
me. I know her job is to be friendly and sell coffee, but I unconsciously stand
straighter, pushing my chest out as I flirt back. Part of my ego argues that
she’s singled me out. That she’s friendly to everyone, but that THAT smile is
only for me.
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