So Lovely

Isn't she just swell? She looks beautiful, sitting there in the passenger seat. She's wearing her Sunday best, a must in our town if you're on the way to the fanciest diner this side of the highway. I love the way she bounces as my rat rod rambles on this old, beat up road. Her curly hair floats as if it's being held by angels. I'm the luckiest man in town. As we roll into the parking lot, we've got the pick of spots, since it's a little early for dinner tonight. I'm sure I'll have to drag her out of the car and in the door, you know how these high maintenance women are, always fussing with their make up and accessories. I lean over and give a peck on the cheek, and she doesn't budge. Oh well. I'm sure she'll warm up when we get in. I kicked open my door, and made my way to hers. Of course, like most of my dates, she's still sitting there, with the door closed, waiting for a gentleman (like me) to come over and sweep the door open and gently grab their dainty hand and escort them off their behind. Women. Pfft. Such silly creatures at times. She leans heavy on my shoulder while we walk to the door. The streets are quiet still, probably another ten minutes or so until the dinner rush hits this small town. The lights are still off and the door was ajar. Gotta love the small town mentality. We make our way to the check in counter, but no one is in sight. I gesture towards a booth next to the window, with my sweet ride in view. My date seems a little more nonchalant than the others I've had lately. The dust billows from the bench seat as I wipe it off with my pocket square. Her eyes flutter as I sit her on one side of the booth, and her hands bolt from her lap and slam into the bottom of the table. "That duct tape is six layers thick. Good luck." I wink at her as her eyes go wide and her breaths become sharp.