I Do Know It’s Me (naturally high)

She walked by my table, an Asian princess of about 23 in a long black wool coat, long straight black highlighted-brown hair, and dark sunglasses. The waiter addressed her as a friend, “Are we solo, today?”

And it was weird. Just like that, I was angry with her. I didn’t like her. I didn’t like her all-day access to my favorite tex mex place or her pop-socketed iPhone UltraMax Pro. We did agree on one thing, she ordered the “caldo.” Best thing on the menu. Reminds me of my old girlfriend’s son who would always say, “It’s spicy” when his soup arrived. Mom would respond, “Too spicy?” “No.” And she would follow up, “You can put rice in it, if you need to cool it off a bit.” This happened about 20 times before I spoke up, “Ya know…”

I didn’t want anything from my dark princess. I didn’t need to comment on her outfit, her food, or her smashing look. I’m almost certain I saw her singing along to the Taylor Swift song playing. But I was a bit too focused on my own nachos and taping this story to myself. I’m afraid even my writing may be sexist or racist. Hell, I think we’re all confused right now. I’m guessing ChatGPT would’ve done a better job at this story. But, what’s the point?

Read more Short-Short Stories from John.