i’m sitting in the corner of a coffee shop, wearing a brown corduroy miniskirt and a black turtleneck. my hair is shorter, and redder. i look hot. so hot, that i’ve noticed the eye of the young chicana staring at me across the shop. we’re both bent over our notebooks, writing furiously. her, a journal. me, poetry.
i stand to order coffee and catch her eye. she smiles at me nervously, so i respond with a confident grin. as i make my way to the register, she grabs her journal and rises to join me.
i order a drink, and move to the side of the coffee bar. she is soon beside me. i lean against the cool counter and watch her blush at me and tuck hair behind her ear as she bats her eyelashes at me.
“Whatcha writing over there?” I asked her.
She stammers at first, but quickly regains her composure.
“Just journaling, you?”
I smirk and shrug, “Just some poetry about this girl who caught my eye here.”
She subtly looks around. We are the only women in the shop.
The barista delivers my drink and I look back to the little Latina who is giving me Bambi eyes.
“Care to join me? I’d love to hear more about your journals.” I suggested, nodding towards my table.
Her drink arrives. Tucking her journal under her arm, she follows me to the table meant for two.