Put Him Back Together, Please
By Bob Tennison
The same group of college girls sat at their reserved table at the beach-front restaurant daily except on weekends. The food was excellent, but they came to see their usual waiter, Brett, hoping that someday one of them would be lucky enough to be asked for a date. So far, just wishing, and that did not make it so. Without a doubt, he was the most handsome man any of them had ever seen, and that was not only their opinion; anybody who had ever seen him would agree. He belonged in the movies or on the cover of Time magazine as Mister America
His black slightly wavy hair graying at the temples. The brightest green eyes most women would spend a fortune to have, and his enchanting smile showing pearly white perfect teeth would brighten anybody’s day for sure. And on days off when he appeared on the beach in his skin-tight briefs, all women and some men would ogle him with open mouths for as long as he was within their sight. It was as though a Greek god had returned to earth just to be seen and admired by all.
His perfect physique, soft black hairs in all the right places brought out even more masculinity, and his tight briefs left nothing to the imagination. The owner of the restaurant was well aware of his good fortune having him as a waiter and at one time had even considered having his staff wear swim suits but decided things were already perfect with shorts and tee shirts in bright colors. His was the busiest of all the beach-front restaurants and no changes were necessary.
Before retiring at night, Brett would carefully take off his ultra-expensive hairpiece. Next he would remove the bright green contacts, place his perfect teeth in a glass of water and cleanser. Finally, he would look into the mirror above the sink and watch the tears form in his eyes and slowly run down his cheeks, then with a look of despair, shake his head and retire. Always alone.
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