Billy Reed
"Your lemon is bigger than mine", she said looking at the half slice of lemon perched on the rim of my tall lemonade glass.
"You can have mine if you want". I had no need for the sour friut. In my head I thought, penis envy but what came out my mouth was "lemon envy". I scrunched my face when she bit into and sucked on the bitter slice. I could almost taste it in my mouth.

In the background bar/restaurant, N-Touch, a melodiously classy smooth jazz band turned notes into soothing hypnotic music as the crowd swayed to the beat. I turned my attention back to her. She seems to be having a good time. She's talking about when she got knocked in the crotch by a hockey puck. Again I scrunch my face but it quickly turns into a smile and then a histerical laugh as I listen to her. I've never met anyone who's gone through such intense agony and has such sense of humor about it.

The music was great, the food was good too, all eighteen baby back ribs. The evening went well. We walk back to the car in the rain, tired, full and content.