No one can save us ... from Kim the waitress

A long time ago, in a galaxy not too far from where I live now, I had quite a rather funny and unexpected crush that was based kind of on a song that turned into a relationship that ended in one of those full-fledged WTF Just Happened story that somehow seems to populate my life.

After coming back from living in the Virgin Islands, I went back to the newspaper I was working for for a bit, then had a falling out with the new managing editor. Being young and stupid, it was entirely my fault. Long story short ... the boss is the boss for a reason. Listen to what she tells you. Do what she asks. Keep getting your paycheck. Wasn't illegal, immoral or ethically questionable, I was just being stupid.  And I got fired.

Which lead me to the world of Les Nessman ... I got into radio news.  My ex-wife had a job once where their receptionist referred to me as "The Voice" when I called, and lets be honest, I do have the perfect face for radio, and the nose of a news reporter who knows how to ask the hard questions, so I was ideally set for a fine career in radio.  But that's not the story here.

Being young and poor, I had two jobs and I worked weird hours ... was doing radio news from 5 a.m. to Noon, I'd have lunch, then go home and sleep for a bit.  Five nights a week I'd bartend from 7 p.m. to close (2:30), then clean the bar, hit Perkins for breakfast, go home, shower, change clothes and hit the radio station to start the cycle all over again. Apply, lather, rinse, repeat.  One of the places I used to go for lunch was this little deli in downtown Warren that featured old style move themes, with meals named after what they ate in classic films of the 30's and 40's ... Breakfast at Tiffany's was a meal that featured what they ate, they had Bogart and Bacall burgers, stuff like that.

And a really hot waitress named Kim.  

Who I was digging muchly.  Mostly because she was a hot blue-eyed redhead with a great rack and heart-shaped ass. And kinda because of a Material Issue song called "Kim The Waitress" from the Freak City Soundtrack that was a great album that was out about the time I first walked in there. But she had pursed lips and tender hips, and they were turning in my head, as the song goes.

I should have taken that as a warning.  I didn't. As Warren Zevon once said, "I went home with a waitress, they way I always do."  My first wife was a waitress when we were married, I'd dated a couple of waitresses or servers since we separated, and Kim was the last that was an actual waitress when we dated.  But anyway ... no one can save us from Kim the waitress, as the song goes, she always turns me on.

Anyway ... I'd always ask for her section and we always would talk about all sorts of things. She was smart.  And pretty. Oh so pretty. And that bothers me in places below the belt!  But I didn't think I stood a ghost of a chance with her.  All of which matched up to the song.  Especially the second verse: 

"Sometimes she comes with coffee
Leaning over, pouring
I'd like to gently pull her to me
Kiss her, with no warning
Seeing her some sunny Sunday morning"

Me being me, and the flirt, I kept talking to her, asking about her, what she did, what she liked, all the things that a guy does when flirting. And she'd flirt back.  If it was slow she's sit beside, me, not across from me.  And when she found out that I worked for the radio station around the corner, she said she listened every day.  People say they listen/watch/read to anyone who's on that air or in print, but it's a common courtesy ... most of the time it's pandering.  She started quoting me lines I'd used on the air.  Okay, I was impressed.  I figure I'll ask her out.  And I do.

So the day I finally asked her out, it was gangbusters. I asked her out, she said "how about this afternoon?"  I said sure. At 26 I could go a day or three without sleep to spend time with her. The deli was a breakfast/lunch only place, so they closed at 2 and she was done at 2:30.  So we talked. She got my number, I told her where I lived (it was above a business).  She said she knew where it was, and would come over after work.  She did. And started stripping as she walked in the room. It was mad monkey love for a couple of hours, then she got dressed, kissed me goodbye and said, "Let's do this again." No real first date ... no need to wine and dine her ... I'd show up for lunch, she'd just come over and we'd have sex.  At 42, I pick that vibe up right away ... but being 26, I was semi-clueless.

The only thing we ever did together in public was doing the Reading for the Blind ... it was  a community service thing she talked me into doing. We'd meet there and read the stories from the newspaper in a little studio that recorded them, put them on a phone bank for the blind to call in and listen.  Again, this was 1994, the internet wasn't all it is today.  That, lunchtime talks and sex was our entire 'relationship' ... and it was going on six or seven months.  But the sex was good, so I was happy and didn't look beyond the here and now.

Again, being 26, I never put any relevance to us never going out, no dinner, no movie.  She told me after the first time not to give her cards, or flowers, she didn't like them, and not to let on at work that we were an item as her boss didn't want the staff hooking up with customers because it was bad for business.

Yeah, again, all clues that today I'd say "Oh, well, I'm just a side project."  But I wasn't all that smart back then.  Until one day, about six or seven months after we first hooked up. I had a rare Saturday morning off from the radio station. So I went home after going out with friends (didn't bartend the Friday night shift, ever), woke up about 10 a.m., grabbed the newspaper, and headed over to a little diner for breakfast because they had killer omelets.  And I used to work there as a dishwasher, so I knew the family that ran it.  I thought about calling her

This was before cell phones were a commodity and readily available, back when the phone was something on the wall in your house, not in your pocket.  But she and I never really talked on the phone. She'd call me when she was home.  Said she was 'too busy' and I should just let her call me.

Again, all things I should have picked up on ... but didn't.

So, it's a nice sunny Saturday in May, I'm sitting at the diner reading the paper and enjoying both a fine cup of coffee and a Big Jack, I pause on the society section of the paper for some odd reason because a picture catches my eye.  I stare at it and realize that I'm reading my alleged girlfriend's and certified sex friend's engagement announcement.  How special.

I don't say anything on Monday when I see her for the Reading for the Blind.  But I do invited her over Tuesday ... she shows up about 2:40, gets naked, we're having sex, she has no ring on, so I let the day play out.  As we're done ... and she's getting dressed, I say, "Hey, I have something to show you."  And hand her the announcement. 

She looks me dead in the eye and says, "I never told you I had a boyfriend?"  I said, "No."  She then proceeds to tell me that they've been together for five years (she's 24), and he doesn't know anything about me.  She called sessions with me as "going to the gym" and he never questioned it.  She said she'd still like to come over because I was good in bed and fun to talk to.  While both of those are compliments, at 26, I wasn't looking for a sometimes sex thing ... I wanted it all.  So I ended it with her.  

The worst part ... I really missed the Bogart burger.

"Kim The Waitress" ~ Material Issue

Pursed lips and tender hips
Turning, in my head
Writing poems in a corner booth
That I'd die, if she read
Seeing her in but a silver cross
Lying on her bed

No one can save us
From Kim The Waitress
No one can save us
From Kim The Waitress
Nobody can save us
From Kim The Waitress
Always turns me on

Sometimes she comes with coffee
Leaning over, pouring
I'd like to gently pull her to me
Kiss her, with no warning
Seeing her some sunny Sunday morning

No one can save us
From Kim The Waitress
No one can save us
From Kim The Waitress
Nobody can save us
From Kim The Waitress
Always turns me on

She doesn't come around anymore
And that bothers me
And that bothers me
Yeah, it bothers me

Though I don't stand a ghost of a chance with her
She's pretty (and that bothers me)
So pretty (and that bothers me)
And it bothers me

No one can save us
From Kim The Waitress
No one can save us
From Kim The Waitress
Nobody can save us
From Kim The Waitress
Always turns me down

No one can save us
No one can save us
Nobody can save us