13.

"Good morning", she says to me and her words drift towards me gently, like a warm breeze. Or maybe more like slowly falling leaves at autumn's birth. Her hair is orange. It's flat and nice, a real orange, not dyed, not fake and chemical. Its outrageously refreshing to hear a voice directed at me without malice, or bitterness. I'm so enthralled I barely mumble out a "Good morning" back. "Can I get you anything to drink to start with? Water, orange juice, coffee?" I make a stupid flustered kind of noise while I shrug. I knew I wanted coffee so I don't even know why I'm acting all indecisive. "Pfffttttt, uhhh black coffee would be great please." What a jackass. "Sounds good, I'll go get that while you take your time to look over the menu." I'm disappointed in myself instantly. Not that I'm attempting to come off as being smooth or charismatic in anyway, because I'm not, I just didn't want to be perceived as a creepy goober. Phil Collin's "Easy Lover" starts up and I note the irony. Vocal duets dance about with subtler synth as I peruse the menu. I settle on the "Purist" home style breakfast, just because it's the cheapest. I tap my toes about and start to feel a weird sense of anxiousness and excitement. I don't remember the last time I ate in a restaurant. I certainly wasn't sober. The waitress comes back with my coffee and she smiles once more. I look up and smile back, like a child would to it's teacher, seeking validation. She has a warmth about her I like. I've been trying hard not to stare so I've barely taken the time to really notice her. Her name tag says "Trace". My eyebrows perk instinctively. She hands me my coffee and I offer up a gruff "Thanks". I'm far too much of a nervous child. You'd think I was an elementary student with this sort of behavior. I order my cheap breakfast and it's an ordinary sort of interaction, but it feels really good to be ordinary for awhile. It'd been so long it feels almost alien. I fall in and out of love with "Trace" over the course of my breakfast. I pay in cash and tip her well, but not so well as to think I was trying to hit on her, and then I gather up my crap and leave.