Today would be a good day…

“Today would be a good day,” I thought to myself as I sat on the edge of the overpass staring at the traffic below. The hight alone was likely lethal should I fall to the ground, and at that hour there was mostly light commercial traffic on the road. I could be someone’s odd 911 call they made some time ago and not the cold familiar corpse I would condemn to my family’s memory if I did it at home – and then it would all be over.

The morbidity of my thoughts was interrupted by the lick of the cutest puppy I’d ever seen. “Got another smoke?” the puppy’s person asked me when I looked up from my death gaze.

I looked her up and down as I reached for a Newport from my pack. She was a cute kind-of-counter-culture-cliche with hair dyed blue with pink highlights, black T-shirt hung loosely over not well hidden breasts, to be fair they’d be fairly tough to hide. Ratty jeans with holes revealed enough milky white flesh to suggest she kept up with shaving and moisturizing but didn’t get out in the sun much. Cheap flip flops revealed sparkly toe nail polish on her dainty white feet.

“Awesome, a Newport!” she exclaimed as I handed her the cigarette, “my boyfriend only buys me Kools because that’s what he smokes,” she explained.

“It’s the only brand I smoke“ I replied as the twinkle in her eyes caught my attention, this one is a cute, trouble-maker for sure. Her puppy, a baby soft chocolate lab likely, climbed in my lap as we exchanged pleasantries, “Got a name?” She asked politely.

Most people call me “Asshole,” I replied curtly. She laughed as I imagined she would, one of those laughs that could light a dark room.

“Well, Asshole, my boyfriend calls me Cunt,” she replied playfully but honestly.

“Sounds like a cool dude, I’ll call you C.”

“Oh he is, he got me this adorable puppy to keep me company while he pretends to go to work,” she replied.

“And why would he pretend to go to work with such a pretty girlfriend waiting at home?” I asked – flirtingly?

“Because he’s super in to this hot neighbor that he loves cheating on me with. I believe if you love them, set them free, and wouldn’t you know, he keeps coming back.”

“Well at least he’s loyal,” I quipped.

“Definitely a keeper. Walk my dog with me?” She asked as she handed the leash enough towards me to entice me off of the ledge of the overpass.

“Why not.”

We began walking and chatting in what to me was a random direction, conversation came easy, kindred spirits.

“Hungry?” She asked as we walked towards a Brazilian steak house.

“I didn’t bring any money,” but she waived me off.

“I’ve got it,” she said as she beckoned me to come along. “Give me the leash,” she said as she took the puppy back from me.

“I don’t think this place allows pets,” I said as we neared the possibly not outrageous but definitely not cheap restaurant from the road.

“It’s OK,” she said as she snatched the sunglasses from my face and put them on. “This place has the best steaks,” she stated as she walked confidently towards the entrance, “take my arm,” she commanded.

As we opened the door a flamboyant Latino “greeted” us with a frown – “Absolutely no animals inside,” he insisted as he eye-balled us suspiciously.

“He’s my seeing eye dog,” she stated matter-of-factly as the puppy picked the entrance to squat and poop before sitting down for dinner. I choked back a laugh as the flustered Brazilian fellow debated how to handle us.

“Do we need to get your manager or are you familiar with the ADA that prohibits you from barring the disabled and their dogs from entering your establishment?”

“That won’t be necessary,” the maitre-dude voiced quietly as he suspiciously eyeballed the fuzzy puppy at the end of the leash – and his newly finished pile of poop – before seating us in the deepest darkest corner of the restaurant, far away from any other customers. “Appetizers?” He asked once we were seated and C answered in perfect Portuguese what sounded to be a bit more than traditional appetizers. The man wrote it all down diligently, eyed us one more time quite queerly suspicious, then left us alone to fetch whatever it was she ordered us.

Conversation came very easy as we awaited whatever she ordered, she wasn’t my usual type but she was very cute and witty and funny and I couldn’t remember a better dinner guest. C gave the puppy an ice cube to play with before finally we were served courses of steak with a sweet & spicy sauce, tortillas, potatoes, salads with exotic nuts in them and a pitcher of margaritas.

It’s possible I wasn’t thinking clearly but I couldn’t remember a better feast with better company.

I was quite full and more than a bit buzzed when the server began clearing the table. Still with sunglasses on, C waited for the server to reach across the table before giving a nudge to a glass at the end of the table that shattered when it hit the tiled floor. “Oh my god, my puppy, is he OK?” She asked me in the middle of the commotion.

“Yes,” I replied as I began moving the glass away from the puppy.

“I’ll get it,” the server interrupted and took over for me.

C gave a faint tug on my arm and whispered “comon” as we began heading for the door. She continued her blind act bumping into tables and chairs on the way to the door and I suppressed laughter as I reached for the check before following her. Apparently she nicked her finger on the broken glass and a drop of blood on the receipt dried into an ironic heart shape and I put it in my pocket – what a unique souvenir for a one of a kind day!

I thought we’d stop at the register on the way out, but thinking back on it I don’t know why I did – we didn’t. After “blindly” knocking over a chair she bee-lined for the exit, her arm in mine tugging me along as an accessory. After safely making it outside and down the street I laughed out the nervous energy and asked my new friend if she’d share a cigarette with me.

“Walk me home?” She asked as she took the lit cigarette from my hand. I winked affirmation and it was a short walk as we reached her front door. She unlocked the door and opened it, but before going inside she turned around and kissed me – passionately and intimately like we’d known each other forever. She pulled me inside with her as she shut the door behind us and turned the puppy loose. “This way,” she said as she coaxed me towards the bedroom. I set my Newports down on an end table along the way and began unfastening my belt in anxious anticipation.

She shut the bedroom door behind us and took off the black t-shirt. No more hiding her perfect, milky-white breasts with perfect pink nipples. I took in the sight and sat down on the bed and she came and sat beside me. She led with another passionate kiss then guided me to lay down, no urge in me to resist her. She sat on my lap and I knew those sparkling eyes and bare breasts would be burned in my memory forever. I was looking forward to what came next, but mumbled, “oh shit” as I heard the front door open and close from the other side of the house.

“Fuck, my boyfriends home, quick go out the window,” she commanded as she slid the window open. Without thinking I grabbed a pack of Kools off of the nightstand to replace the fresh pack of Newports I’d left in the other room, then jumped into action to comply.

“When did you start smoking Newports?” I heard the most grating voice ever ask from the other room – perhaps I was biased…

“He sounds like a deuche,” I whispered to her before jumping out the window and turning for one last look.

“You have know idea,” she replied playfully and rolled her eyes as she ushered me away. I made it a few doors down before ordering an Uber to meet me at the corner and take me home after quite an extraordinary afternoon.

I sat quietly in the car as the Nigerian driver chatted away, contemplating all the what if’s- what if I jumped, what if her boyfriend never came home, what if I bothered to get her name and number – I contemplated on the way and got out of the car when we reached my home.

“Where have you been, I was so worried about you?” my girlfriend asked – whether genuinely or not I wasn’t quite sure. I took a cigarette out and lit it without answering when she saw me and said, “When did you start smoking Kools?”

Before answering I noticed a “new” half a pack of Kools on the end table by the sofa. “I thought today would be a good day,” I answered as puzzle pieces I hadn’t noticed before all seemed to fit… or maybe they didn’t , the only thing I was sure of I was back where I started….

Joseph Smith

Htxjoe@me.com