somewhere out east, there's this ancient little old mill inn that was quaintly turned into a high end-ish restaurant, quaintly now called the olde mill inn restaurant that lots of white people with money like to go to, and it's a place that sometimes i frequent with a certain favorite someone, usually for the 3-5 daily special of one dollar oysters in the summer, so isn't that just ironic. it is, by all means, other than the oysters and the alcohol, extraordinarily uneventful and quiet and just lovely, usually with a handful of out-of-town New Yorkers at the bar slurping on two dozen or so of those cold little blobs of ocean spit-up that oysters really are.
one particular day, we had walked in expecting the expected, when rising from her place at the bar and greeting us gregariously at the door came one of the most beautiful women i had ever laid my blue-grey peepers on. she was black, her skin glowing like she had rubbed it vigorously with some magic powder of mother of pearl, her hair dark and wild and framing her face the way i envy so much with women of color, her large black watery eyes outlined with kohl and the slightest flash of silver and the most luscious lips you've ever seen smeared with hypnotic hot pink matching her very very short dress that flashed across her dark skin making it impossible to look at anything other than her lips as she said something along the lines of "welcomeeewouldyoucareeeetositattheeeebarr?", some sort of lilting south american accent just barely whisping around those words, a glass of white wine gathering dew and raised like a trophy in one hand, her other gesturing toward the run of the restaurant, do vhat you'd like, dahlings.
naturally i was feeling immediately entranced by this 55 year old with the most amazing ass ever, and that feeling of feeling like the frumpiest person in four counties is pretty rough to deal with when you have a senior citizen checking out your date and that witch really was. as we took our seats, i caught those round eyes take him in, then me, and i like to think i know enough about sex now to think for a minute that maybe i should leave the room before i got it together enough to give this woman the mental props necessary for being very obviously the most hypnotic thing on the North Fork at that very moment or perhaps even ever.
for some reason, they served us our oysters on a bed of not very cold ocean pebbles, which although aesthetically pleasing, truly ruins the fresh cold ocean idea on a really hot day. an elderly couple that looked exactly like us but forty years on plodded in and up to the bar - they had not much to say but seemed fine with it and we looked at them and each other and laughed then for whatever the other reasons were, that weekend proceeded to turn into a living hell shortly thereafter.
always give a witch her props and never ever ever turn your back on someone walking into a party
.JPG)
