P r o l o g u e
Oozing with boring anecdotes, the feminine patron continued an incessant monologue of repeated 'What's his name again's, 'Her shirt was',' (including numerous 'likes' in one sentence) and momentary lapses until she flicked her hand, suddenly careless and tired of the story she was telling. Packaged with wacky hand expressions, she was every man's goddess…..in rehab. The accompanied listener sat across, weaved an amicable expression with quivering pupils as if searching for someone he knew. He long lost track of what she was chattering about, besides he became tired of picturing the descriptions of her attire to the public events she attended.
Immersed in thoughts of fake excuses to relieve him of another fashion drama when she forgot to tell her house cleaner to pick up her clothes from the dry cleaners, he failed to detect faint movement of the entrance bell.
Irony, sometimes, was quite a lovely factor while he kept guessing answers on the a pop quiz or an exam and got an A, but meeting his match-up, per his mother's instructions, at a wrong destination he purposely went to, was simply bad luck.
His eyes remained on his decaf cappuccino, decaf…psh! That is not even real coffee! He did ask why she ordered him a decaf, reasoning that 'coffee makes your teeth black and your breath smell and I like my man's teeth clean with fresh breath'. (Please note also that she has excessive use of the word "and".) He went in shock for a few seconds, realizing her straightforwardness in relationships. Then a vague whiteness caught his sight and held his attention.
Behind his motor-mouth match-up, was a petite figure clothed in plain white tee and khaki capris. After a half-hour of flamboyant accessories and apparel, along with thick make-upped face(counting the stories with similar descriptions), he can find the simplest sights of almost pleasurable interest. Nevertheless, what came to his eyes was not only a simple face; an insouciant mien illustrated her soulful, dark hazel eyes. Small, rosy lips accentuated smooth cheeks with delicate bangs bouncing off the soft texture. The darling infant curdled in her silky arms made her glistened like Virgin Mary. A sliver of light shone noticeably at him, around the finger of her left arm, spotlighted a thin golden band. Flooded with sudden disappointment, he leered his eyes temporarily aside.
"And she was, like 'whatever' and I was like 'whatever', and she was wearing this sluttish skirt with a halter that was totally tacky"—she paused as she passed her companion a curious glance, "Jacob? Jacob?" Her fake nails, adorned with a hot pink polish, flaunted itself repetitively at his crestfallen expression; when one came dangerously close to his eye, he automatically receded.
That received a response.
"Jacob?"
He took a quick glimpse of her original spot; she was gone. He focused his glance at her until she resumed her resilient speech. She spoke but no sound came out, he once again lost track of her stories.