*non dream* babies in mom's shoes

(The Chop House) These two girls, they came in and they sat on table 31 - The girl with the blond hair, green dress, the smooth poof of hair on the top of the head, and perfect golden highlights; The girl with the brown hair lining her face, just fitting into her dress, heavy brown eye shadow - a sexy look she found in a magazine.

Finding their feet on the bar stool, their heels slope around the rim. They look comfortable to feel all eyes on them. They don’t touch the bread. (Save room for all the courses.) Talking, she moves her hands and tilts her head. She just graduated high school, now imitating the adults. ‘They wear this, but I‘m younger so this will be mine.’ ‘They talk like this but what about that voice inflection, was the emphasis on the – or the - ?’

These men gobble them up. Are they only attractive because they’ve painted themselves appropriate? Brunette does most of the talking. I can see her trying not to eat. (Always leave leftovers; that’s what the sexy women do.)

The blond slowly consumes. “Perhaps she’s only slacking because she’s talking. But I don’t want to be the fat one. I’m the blond one.”

Skin so soft, no sign of age. I thought they were 17 or 18. Not 22. I still have my doubts. Two girls are playing dress up, baby soft and naive to this world. But this is the crowd in which they want to belong, so they’ll keep on talking – a sure sign they’ve done this before. Along with the leftovers, like ‘I eat this well all the time.’

Old man whitey will suck up the conversation. Does he actually hope to accomplish something or is their company, the touch of her hand, the gaze of her eye, this moment he can call his - is that enough? She graces him hers because ‘Look how sweet, he thinks he can get some.’ No, that’s not it at all. ‘Oh, what a sweet man, I’ll entertain him – my duty as a beautiful girl.’

Then there were the men who shared their whiskey. It goes great with dessert. But they coughed and giggled at their embarrassment. And then the men commented to Steve - behind her back in a pow wow of sorts. Could have taken them. “Sleeping on the job,” is how they phrased it. On the job eh? My skin crawls as I imagine him cheating on his wife, fantasizing about girls half his age. He has two boys that he adores. An example. He needs to be an example.

I’m imagining fitting into their roles at school (the girls’). Among their friends and their boyfriends do they do all that’s expected of them? I hope not, but it’s the only way they can survive. Anything else and they wouldn’t know what to do. It’s not like they can be themselves. Don’t even know what that would mean.

As they leave, she looks at me twice to see if I look at her. She’ll try to read my thoughts but she’ll only think what she wants. Secretly, she wants me to approve. Why? Because I know something she doesn’t. She can see it in my confidence.