Thick Summer Air

She always forgets that the door pushes in and not out; or is it the other way around. Either way, she makes her way into this little hole in the wall coffee place, Meshuggah’s. It’s an old Yiddish term for being foolish or crazy, which all the people sitting outside are like. The inside, however, is filled with Grad students from Wash U sipping coffee as they write their latest paper and a group of young men stand at the tiny counter where Dennis, the only person working this afternoon, hovers. It is Fat Tire Tuesday and they want their cheap beer. A few of them turn around; eyeing her tan legs and whatever else is formed under the orange sundress that she wears on this sticky hot day. A blush creeps up her neck and she awkwardly looks away, avoiding eye contact with them. Pushing each other out of the way and running into a few of the over worked Grad students, the counter is now free. Dennis is taking his time crafting the most tantalizing sandwiches one will ever have the pleasure of knowing, with layers of sundried tomato, warm Gouda, lettuce and a sauce whose contents are even a mystery to him. Leaning against the counter he sees her and nods in a way that tells her that he’ll get her Iced Thai Coffee out in a moment.