Somewhere to Be

Thursday was her day off. It was nearly every week. She arrived at CiCis in sweatpants and a t-shirt and Crocs. Hair in a ponytail, no makeup. Not the one close to the store where she worked. The one 35 minutes across town. Got there about 11:30. Just before lunch. She liked being there when there was a crowd. Hoped it meant she wasn’t noticed. Seven dollars and 41 cents. Every Thursday. All she could eat. And that was plenty.

Amid the kids spending summer days at the pool and breaking for lunch and the work crews and the landscapers and the moms trying to occupy their kids with cheap food and video games for an hour or so, there she sat. And ate. The barbecue pizza was especially tasty, and today she had seven slices to get things started. Then a plate of breadsticks. The deep dish pepperoni was not so great. But the normal pepperoni was pretty solid. She stayed away from anything with vegetables on these trips. They could be unpleasant.

Around 1 PM she went to the restroom. Empty. She got the release she needed. So full, she felt another bite of anything would make her explode. Instead, this. Head between a porcelain bowl, flushing and trying to keep the noise down. The release was intense. Sweet. Almost orgasmic.

She returned to the dining area. Grabbed a plate and began to place a couple pieces of dessert pizza. Now, some diet coke.

And the guy with the delivery driver shirt is talking to the pizza guy about which pizza is good and telling him he’d better get some more pies in because he just saw a field trip bus from the zoo and he’s pretty sure it’s heading for this strip center and those kids will keep CiCis on its toes so they’d better start now with the extra pies, he says.

And it is distractions like this that she counts on. Some guy talking to the kid who is making pizza this week who may or not be there in three weeks. Another guy hitting on the girl at the counter with the pretty dark eyes and the tattoo of a snake on her forearm. These distractions mean she won’t be noticed. And her once a week chance to eat out. Among people. And still purge. That chance is preserved because she has found the perfect place to escape.

About six months into this weekly routine, she noticed him. Very neat. Very quiet. Always alone. Not like the typical patrons. Plus, he stayed for 45 minutes or more at a time, which seemed odd. Never played video games, never really watched TV. Didn’t bring a phone with him. She thought he had noticed her, his gaze seemed to linger a bit as she got up to go to the bathroom. And his eyes definitely met hers as she returned with a dessert plate.

She would see him there maybe four more times over the next six months. Why did he come on Thursdays? He looked like he was working somewhere or maybe he just always dressed in that neat, business casual type look. He seemed pretty serious. Never really smiled, but didn’t frown, either. Why was he eating at CiCis? Did he know something about her or was it just an odd coincidence that they were both there on Thursdays. It had been only a total of 5 times in 6 months. Hardly a cause for concern seeing as how she was there nearly every single week on the same day and during the same time period. Still, he was a constant. The staff changed. The rowdy kids and dirty workers were different. But over six months, he was there. The same. Lingering. Drinking a fifth cup of diet coke with his dessert pizza. Just sitting there. Didn’t he have somewhere to be?