For our getaway weekend we went to the city and checked into this nice hotel. Clifford asked for a room with a view, and we were delighted with the result.

We spent the afternoon sightseeing and made it back to the hotel as the sun was setting. We went up to the room and changed and then went down to the coffee shop just off the lobby. The barista was this cute young thing with curly red hair. We got our order and sat at a table across from the counter. The ham and cheese croissants were really good and so was the tea. We took our time, chatting about what we’d seen that day and what we hoped to see tomorrow. Then this guy came in and flirted with the barista. Maybe he was her boyfriend, maybe he was her father, or maybe he was a stranger. He ordered one exotic concoction after another, changing his mind again and again. A blueberry-caramel macchiato with six extra shots. That kind of thing. I whispered to Clifford that the bald guy’s head reminded me of the head of a giant penis, and Clifford whispered back that the barista’s curly head might be indicative of her bush. “Indicative,” I repeated. “Or maybe,” I whispered, “she’s shaved smooth as a baby’s butt.”

We went up to the room and had a good time. “You thought that barista was really cute with her bright red bushy bush,” I teased Clifford.” Clifford teased me back about the bald guy’s penis head. We fell asleep completely sated.

Sometime toward morning I dreamed I woke up. In the dream I went to the window and looked out.