"My prayers have been answered," I said. I straightened up and nervously pushed my hair back as this drop-dead gorgeous brunette strolled in. All she had on was some cut-offs and a pinkish, or maybe beige, bikini top. She seemed to be looking around for something but couldn't find what she wanted. I didn't mind, I'm still admiring that brown body. "Can I help you find anything?" I asked. The tops of her feet, thighs, stomach, chest, neck - all nicely tanned.

"Yeah. Where's the liquor?" she asked and raised her head to look at me.

"Its back here behind the counter," I replied. She must be at least twenty or twenty-one. She'd probably have nothing to do with me. Words spilled out of my mouth. I had no control. "If you come over here by the register you can see what I have." As she made her way around, I could see the thin straps of her top teetering on the curved edge of her shoulders. She put her hands down on the counter, squinted her eyes, and leaned over to get a closer look at the selection. What a view!

"Can I come back there? I really can't see much from here."

"Uh...yeah...I mean...sure," I stammered. Damn, I'd been doing so well up to until then. She squatted down to take a look, and I could envision myself oiling up her back.

"I can't decide," she said. "I'll just wait till he's done fillin' up."

He! He, who? I looked out at the pumps, worried there was some football-playing meathead just waiting to give me a couple licks for staring at his girl. It was just some old man though. "Yeah, your dad looks like he's just about done," I said while I watched the old guy shake the nozzle and hang it up.

She giggled and rolled her eyes, but I didn't catch the joke. The old man was tall, tan and muscular - probably played football in high school. He came in and slapped a twenty on the counter and pulled the girl next to him. "Got Bacardi?" he barked.

"Sure thing," I replied as I squatted down to pick it up. When I came back up, her nose was nuzzled behind his ear.

"Does the twenty cover this and the gas?"

I nodded. He picked up the bottle and walked off. "Thanks daddy," I heard the girl say. She turned her head towards me and laughed as they walked out the door - her under his arm. I couldn't believe what I'd just seen. A sixty year-old man with a twenty year-old girl, together on a sweltering summer night.

"What the hell does she see in him, Barry?"

"Did you see what he had in his pants?"

"I've got somethin' in my pants I could give her too. But she seems to be attracted to white hair and leathery skin."

"No, no, no. I mean his wallet. It was stuffed with bills. He was driving a vette too."

"You'd think such a beautiful specimen would be less superficial," I said.

"Don't sweat it. She'll be your side - or someone just like her will be - one of these days"

I turned to look at Porky and Slim in the booth. They're both leaning over the table. He's whispering something in her ear. They sit back down, hold hands, and laugh. I could've sworn they were laughing at me. These people make me sick. How do they find each other? Probably at a family reunion. But that doesn't explain the chick with Methuselah. How did they meet? I certainly don't have the answer. I work all night, sleep all day, and hardly have time to cram in a movie or a trip to the arcade. Girls just don't find their way into my life, except the few that come in here. Teases.

<- Take me home.