Kat and Andrew

Part 1

The chill left him as he stepped into the dreary diner from the cold fog of the fall morning in Portland, Oregon. It was a little place, down a couple flights of concrete steps that were cut into the rocky boundary of a small bay. As bays go on the lower Columbia River, it was more of a large marina, but the locals called it The Bay. Incidentally this was also the name of the small diner. The sign was dirty and grimy from the wet air of the valley and looked as if it would fall on the next patron if the door was shut too hard.

Andrew Tibbs looked around the small diner. There were the few locals that came for coffee every morning, their newspapers tucked neatly beneath their arm yet never opened. A homeless man by the name of Strange Joe sat in a corner booth. He appeared to be sleeping, though no one ever really knew for sure. The waitress, Debbie Ross looked up from behind the dirty old Formica counter. Her eyes burned red from a night out too late in a seedy bar, the air in which was full of smoke, a likely mix of tobacco and weed, and far too much tequila on the rocks. She didn't bother asking Andrew what he wanted, but grunted an unrecognizable greeting, or so it seemed to imply, and waved to the back of the room thrusting a filthy white mug of tar into his hands.

Andrew finally located the target of his visit. A short squat woman sat at a table in the back corner, beneath a light that seemed afraid to admit the power had been turned on and did nothing but flicker. Had Andrew been an epileptic he would have surely been in a fit on the floor. A warm smile greeted him from behind a copy of Little Women.

"Good Morning Kat," he said softly.

"Good morning Hot Stuff, how's your day so far?"

"Could be worse. I just walked down two flights of stairs in the dreary cold and wet fog. Stepped into a filthy diner, with the likelihood of being stabbed, but that has yet to materialize, so I would say it could be worse." He took a sip from the black mixture in his cup and spat it back out, "although I am certain the coffee could not. So, why here? Doesn't the Hogwarts Express run close by? Platform 9 3/4 I believe?"

"Very funny," she said looking up again from her book, "but I like this place. It's real."

"Yeah, real old and dirty. I am pretty sure I saw a roach run OUT the door when I came in."

Kat ignored the comment and looked back down at her book. Andrew looked at the yellowed menu with its tattered corners that looked as if someone had used them to pick their teeth at some point in time. The light above them had given in to its fears of coming on and simply stopped all together.

"So, what's good?" Andrew asked, reluctant to order anything without looking at the state of the kitchen, then deciding it might be better to live in ignorance. Though in this case ignorance could be lethal.

"I like the hash browns and eggs, Donny does them right."

"Donny?"

"Yeah, he's the chef."

"Of course. I just thought his name would sound a little more befitting of this place, like Wretch..."

Again his unwitty comment went ignored. "So, are you going to put the book down? Or should I just go and leave you to your cross dressing confused Joe?"

"She is not a cross dresser and all teenagers are confused. Girls especially."

Debbie wandered up to the table. Andrew could not help but notice that behind her grease stained yellow shirt and her battle worn lunch lady bra sat one nipple, apparently erect and proud, while the other remained beneath its cloak of fabric. It was odd he thought, and wondered if the one on the right was an innie, though was very sure he did not want to ask, she might actually show him. Her hips were narrow and bony and her skirt hung precariously loose, threatening to fall to the floor at any moment. Andrew involuntarily pictured this and gave a violent shudder as the image of crotch less granny panties and straps running down pasty white legs ripe with blue veins holding up her tattered garters came into his mind. He struggled to purge it thinking back to every porn he had ever seen.