Afternoon delights

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This is another piece that centers on the joy of  everyday life and simple human exchanges rather than overt erotica. I introduced Michael the busker in Not another piece of erotic writing, but for various reasons – one very important one which you will discover if you read on, I’m feeling happier with the world at the moment.

As I deliberated between the spinach and fetta phyllo and the blueberry scone with lemon glaze, I couldn’t help overhear an exchange between two of the bakery staff.

“Well I’m off. I probably won’t see you before you leave. I hope it all goes well.” The older man smiled at the young fellow and headed to the door.
“Thanks! I’ll see you when I return.”

Training his attention on me the young man smiled inquiringly, his blue eyes shining.
I smiled back. “I’ll have the spinach and fetta pastry thanks… And, one of the blueberry scones.”

Curious I looked at his glowing, youthful face. “Are you going on a holiday ?”

He smiled more broadly, clearly excited, and willing to talk about his plans. “Yes. Well, a working holiday… Overseas. Next Wednesday.”

“Where are you going?” I queried, expecting the answer would be Bali or Fiji.

“Bordeux,” he stated, giving me the benefit of a high wattage smile. “I’m teaching English there for four weeks.”

“Bordeux! Oh lovely, you must be very excited!”

“Oh yes, have you been?”

I shook my head, sadly, “No, but I’ve just decided I’m going to the UK in September.”

“Oh the UK! Sounds great! Have you got family there?”

“Just one, but I’ve got quite  a few on-line friends I’m hoping to catch up with.”

We concluded our exchange and making sure I had some change for Michael I gathered my brown paper bags together, placing them in with my groceries.

The busker was in full swing when I placed a $5.00 note into his guitar case and pinned it with a few gold coins.

“Thanks love. How are you today, I haven’t seen you for a while.” “No. You know, Xmas and all that. How was your Xmas?”

He gave me a gap toothed smile, as I realised belatedly that this might not be the most tactful question of someone I didn’t know well and who earned his daily fee from busking. He gleefully told me about spending Christmas with his eldest daughter. His pride in her achievements was evident and I smiled with relief and told him about Xmas day with the grandkids.  Awash with mutual cheer I wished him all the best; “Enjoy the rest of your day, I’ll see you next time!” as we both went back to our separate tasks.

My car was parked nearby and I dropped the bags of groceries on the passenger seat, then moved behind the wheel, retrieving my late lunch from one of the brown paper bags. It was mid afternoon already and as I’d trailed around the aisles of the supermarket, it had suddenly occurred to me that I was hungry.

Biting down on the pastry, I leant back in the car seat, relaxed and happy, watching Michael through the open car window. Listening to him belting out a unique version of the Rolling Stones standard Waiting on a Friend in his raspy rock and roll voice. He was getting a fair amount of trade, the spot near the corner of the supermarket was a good one, and people were being generous and appreciative.

A man of a similar age to Michael stopped to chat to him for a couple of minutes before turning to head up the footpath that bordered the area where I was parked. His t-shirt was a virulent shade of green and I was trying to decipher what the yellow logo was when he noticed me watching. Our eyes locked then he pointedly licked his lips. Startled, it took me a heartbeat to realise he was being friendly not salacious. Doing the besty thing of pointing out the crumbs on my lips. I laughed delightedly and he came to the open car window and we chatted briefly about the how good the fare was, and how it was great to hear Michael in full swing.

I don’t know if there were men who noticed me in a friendly manner before I started to take pleasure in my own company, in living again; even before I started noticing them, but I’m glad they do. I don’t care, in fact I wouldn’t want, a stranger cracking on to me in a sexual manner, but a stranger treating me like a person, being friendly, exchanging a few prosaic words, giving me a cheeky smile; that, I am pleased to say, I really enjoy. And in it’s own way I think its delightfully sexy.

 

 

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