Jimmy looked at his watch; it was ten minutes to six. The girls were going to be hungry. He had half a pint left then he’d grab a bucket of chicken on the way home. The waitress walked past with a tray full of draft. He liked the way her denim blouse pulled apart when she held the tray to her shoulder. A guy could catch a look at her white b*a if he wasn’t too obvious.
He figured her to be in her late twenties – too young for an old fart, but not hard on the eyes, not hard at all. She wore her hair long under a light pink cowboy hat. And he liked her short little jean skirt, too. Barb might have had a thing or two to say about the length of her hem, but Jimmy wasn’t complaining. The girl caught him looking her way and held his eyes. Jimmy’s cheeks burned and she smiled brightly then turne
