My Blog from MySpace v. 11 (MILF)

And that would be Model, not Mom.

Thursday, February 21, 2008


Union Square: I can’t order cream with my coffee
Current mood: catalyzed
Category: Food and Restaurants

You can blame it on my queer brother. He took me to the coffee shop right off of Union Square. From the outside, I was wondering why the hell we were going into some dive at a hip spot. Not my cup o' joe, yah dig?

We go inside, and I instantly notice how nice the place looks on the interior, in complete opposition to its outside. I also notice the three model-like women standing near the front divider of this place, which is essentially a coffee shop and bar with a middle divider between the two. They're laughing and joking, and I'm not trying to stare as I follow my brother and some waif of a waitress to our seats. We're meeting a friend of his, and just rode our bikes in, despite the 21 degree temperature and single-digits with the windchill fucking cold of NYC today.

I sit down next to him at a booth, and the waif-like waitress asks if we want some coffee. Her breasts, while small, are spilling out of her almost nonexistent top, because she's wearing a summer dress in the middle of winter. Two coffees, and brother orders some water too.

I look around, and damn if there aren't five different waitresses, and between the five of them, there probably isn't more than three hundred pounds collectively. It's too bad, because they're all attractive, just underweight - by a lot. I felt like I ought to be serving food to these women, rather than ordering from them.

Back to the present moment. I've got this waif, who's pretty damn cute, asking me if I want anything else with my coffee.. milk? cream? She's leaning over the table, threatening to spill out of her dress.

Mmmm....

Damn if I didn't feel like I was stuck in my dentist's chair, trying to pay attention to what she's saying, but totally distracted by the semi-clothed (even if underweight) body of the woman in front of me.

Words, words, words... "yeah... yeah..." I think I just ordered soy, half and half, and milk with my coffee. Luckily, my brother provides cover: "I want milk with my coffee."

"Yeah, I'll have the same." Thanks brother, at least I can pay attention to what you're saying.

Twenty minutes later, my brother is meeting with his friend, and I gotta go, I'm getting on the late side of getting to work... but damn if I didn't get ate up like a ham sandwich wouldn't by one of the models as I was on my way out the door.

I think I found a new hangout, even if I can't order cream with my coffee. Not, at least, with a straight face.

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