Wind Eggs
Published in

Wind Eggs

Never underestimate a mother’s uncanny ability to find you the worst possible gift in the world

Serendipity or Malicious Intent?

Mama Drama Week

Poster asking for girlfriends
Source image by Art Institute of Chicago

THE SERVER AT THE ALL-NITE DINER laid George’s order on the table, two dogs with everything and extra-chili, rings, chili-cheese fries and extra-large banana fudge malted with whipped cream. And, as usual, George dropped half the works, which included chili, pickles, onions, relish, cheddar cheese, jack cheese, diced olives, and, of course, extra chili, down the front of his shirt.

As usual, he’d remembered to tuck a napkin into his shirt collar, but, also as usual, it had shifted to the side so that the mess tumbled down his AC-DC t-shirt and onto his pants. Even worse, chili stains don’t come out, which was why he was wearing the sixth AC-DC t-shirt and third pair of jeans he’d bought this year.

What surprised George the most, however, was that the girl picked that exact moment to ask if she could sit at his table. Especially since (and he double checked) more than half the diner’s tables were open. But there she sat, perky, cute, and totally not his type.

George remembered to tuck a napkin into his shirt collar, but, also as usual, it had shifted to the side so that the mess tumbled down his AC-DC t-shirt and onto his pants. Even worse, chili stains don’t come out.

Not his type mainly because girls like her never looked at him twice, since he packed 250 pounds into his five-three frame, and spent most of his time away from work at the comic shop or as Waldor the Magnificent with his all-male Cosplay society. By contrast, the girl who introduced herself as Bette, was blonde, athletic, drop dead (and go straight to hell for the thoughts she inspires) gorgeous, and wearing a sorority pin.

But she reminded him of someone he couldn’t name. Every time he reached for the memory, it danced further away.
George dabbed at his shirt with his napkin. “Why’d you pick me?”

She reached for a menu from the next table. “I wouldn’t have even asked to join you if this sweet little lady in the parking lot hadn’t offered to pay for my meal.”

George didn’t have to ask.

Mother.

Find my books

Wry noir author Phillip T. Stephens wrote Cigerets, Guns & Beer, Raising Hell, the Indie Book Award winning Seeing Jesus, and the children’s book parody Furious George. Follow him at Phillip T Stephens.

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