Conversations With the Fat Girl Read Online Free PDF

who
    could. For now I'll call him Domenic. He grabs an apron as he eyes the
    radio and judges the previous busboy's taste in music, usually ending
    with an eye roll. He finishes tying his apron while flipping through his
    own CDs. He puts one in and presses PLAY while grabbing the plastic bin
    for dirty dishes. He opens the door and. Cole trains his deep-set
    blue-green eyes on a foursome at the counter who are obviously on their
    way to the Pasadena Playhouse down the block. I pass the blond her hot
    toddy, and she tips us a nice fat quarter. We'll all eat like kings
    tonight. Domenic Brown floats by and shoots me that crooked grin of his.
    Damn, that boy has mastered breezy. 'What can I get you?? Cole is
    speaking to no one in particular. Everyone in the coffeehouse infers he
    is speaking to the foursome, as they are first in line. ?Just one
    second, please.?The leader of the foursome speaks to Cole in a way that
    you shouldn't speak to Cole. Cole leans back on the counter and slowly
    picks up his espresso mug. ?She's not tearing it down,?Cole says through
    sips. ?What? I am imagining biting off flips of perfect dark hair and
    whispering Domenico. ?She's not really tearing it down.? Cole raises his
    voice and turns his body so that he is squaring me off. I almost look to
    the uptight foursome for help. Do I digress and agree that Cole is now
    an expert in landlady pathology? ?And where is this coming from??I ask.
     
    31 Conversations with the Fat Girl 25
     
    ?I just know She's just batty enough to make up some crazy shit like
    that.? ?And you know this because. ?I'm just saying,?Cole interrupts.
    ?Sir? I'd like The leader of the foursome starts in when there is a
    perceived lull. ?Why do you care anyway??I ask. Knowing when to stop
    talking about something has never been one of my strengths. ?Sir?? the
    leader of the stylish foursome interjects. Cole picks up his espresso
    mug, which looks like a child's tea set piece in his mitt of a hand,
    makes eye contact with the man, and turns his back on my question and
    me. ?I think we're ready over here,?the man stutters. Cole has won. The
    man is now half the man he was when he walked in. Cole sets down his
    espresso mug and once again lifts his eyebrows, opens his mouth just
    enough, and crosses his arms across his wide chest, washrag dangling. I
    count five ?sorrys,?three ?if you don't minds?and a whopping six ?when
    you get the chances.? The foursome tips Cole an extra five dollars. All
    I can think about is my question hanging in the air. Unanswered and
    deafening. ?D. Brown, get your scrawny ass out here.?Cole acts like
    we're all in the locker room right before the big game and we've all got
    fancy nicknames. Domenic walks out of the back room with a plastic bin
    under one arm, head tilted up, questioning. There is nothing
    extraordinary about him. He is not someone people would label as
    beautiful. But as Cole sets down his espresso teacup, Domenic Brown
    never picks up his pace or apologizes for being ten minutes later than I
    was. I am smitten. ?Did you see that album I left for you??Cole asks.
     
    32 26 Liza Palmer
     
    Cole is one of these guys who still calls CDs albums. On a good day,
    when feeling particularly hip, he'll call them LPs. Those are days of
    wonder. ?1 liked the hit in song five, the obscure Won-G the Haiti Boy
    song was unexpected, and I really liked the bridge on the hidden track,?
    Domenic says, busying himself refilling the many sugars that a
    California coffeehouse offers: Raw, Bagged, Fake, Cubed Raw, Cubed
    White. . . the mind reels. ?Hidden track?? I ask. I know damn well what
    a hidden track is, but I have to get in on this conversation. Now, Haiti
    Boy I have no idea. 'Sometimes hands will put a song at the end of their
    CD and won't tell anyone, or let it be programmed in. It's actually nice
    if you don't know about it.?Domenic's pants are pooching out in the back
    as he bends over to grab the larger sugar boxes from underneath