Al fresco

Saturday morning breakfast, very important. Very "behind" sunglasses. (No photos, thanks) We went out late, drank vodka and danced.

Oh yes, doesn't your shit not stink, says the waiter's eyes as he views what is in front of him.

"Menus," he says.

No mate, I just don't want any photos today. I'm not signing anything, was the look I gave him.

"Coffees?" he says.

"Yes," I say.

"Shall I just bring a selection?" he says sarcastically.

I like him already.

Mat gives the order.

We sit there staring until the coffees come.

"So, you ready to order?" says our waiter.

We both move our heads in unison to look at him. We both move our heads in unison to look at the menus. We both move our heads to look back at him. Without saying anything.

"Shall I give you some more time?" he says.

I look at Mat, Mat looks at me.

"Perhaps another week," says our waiter. He laughs.

I give my order, my voice even surprises me with how croaky it is.

Mat gives his order.

We drink our coffee and in no time the food arrives.

Mat and I giggle behind our foggy eyes, dark sunglasses, his has my big egg breakfasts reflected in them.

I laugh. Mat looks quizzical, as quizzical as anyone can look with sunglasses on. 

"You've got eggs for eyes."

"Huh?"

I shake my head. "Never mind."

"You have Fairy toast eyes," he says. He caught on quick.

Strong coffee. Somewhere in the sun with an ashtray. Maybe a cool breeze, if it could be managed. A newspaper and my boyfriend's foot resting gently on mine, was what I had wished for in my head.

And that's what I got. Oh, minus the newspaper.

The waiter came over. "Everything okay?"

"Would you have a newspaper?"

"Do you think you can?" he questioned.

"I'll give it a go," I say.

He smiled and went and got a newspaper.

He brings two. "Thanks," I say.

We both read the news as we eat our food.