Romance Contemporary Fiction

Alyce's Restaurant

High Plains Drifter drifted through the high plains looking for a comfortable corner. The zipper zipped beside him on the left. The fog line to his right. The easy double nickles he was maintaining was lulling him to the point of shutter trouble. His hours were nearly expired. It was time to back it down and pull off ramp. According to his Qualcom a small place should be within five miles. It would have to do even if he wasn't familiar with it. Next place would be too far and run him out of hours.

Rules, rules. Every which way you turned these days there were more rules. Was a time when he first started out he was in charge of how long he could go and choose his favorite hide-outs. But now...Blasted DOT or somebody always breathing down your neck. Electronic logs told no lies. Not like the old days when you could run two sets. Not even any chatter on the CB to check out if this place was safe.

Easing up on the hammer then down shifting the long-haul trucker wearily, warily pulled his big rig into the truck stop. But before calling it a night in his sleeper berth he was ready for a scrub, some grub and maybe even a rub. Oh, who is he kidding. Those places don't exist anymore. He'd spent a long eleven hours grinding the gears, dodging the four wheelers and beating the bears in the bushes. But the payload would be worth it.

He debated whether to fill up tonight or wait until early morning when the lines may be shorter. The small shabby lot looked pretty full-up. Maybe there wouldn't be any spaces left after the fellows in front of the pumps now settled in. Besides, if he couldn't find a spot on the edges he would have to squeeze between the company drivers. With the cost of go-go juice skyrocketing as it has been thanks to the genius in the White House, no doubt, the danger of someone ciphering off a full tank was highly probable. Hard to predict in a place like this. He wasn't comfortable by the looks of it. Not by a long shot. He sighed heavily resigned to have to live with the facts.

It would mean a slower start in the morning but luckily he was somewhat ahead of schedule so could afford the delay. Wasn't like anyone was waiting breathlessly for his return safely home. That berth was his home. Which reminded him he had better take out the trash. Liked to keep the place meticulously clean. This stop didn't look like it would house a laundry and there was obviously no truck wash to shine up the Bulldog.

He didn't see any no parking signs so he pulled along side the curb away from the other semis and shut it down. It was a warm February so he saw no reason to keep the motor running. He would stay warm enough under the blankets. He gathered up the trash, his duffle with his toiletries and change of clothes, locked up and climbed down with a grunt. Those steps somehow keep getting wider apart.

As he was stretching his legs out an obvious newbie driver walked past and remarked, ”Good looking rig, Good Buddy!”

Good Buddy? Is that one of those terms that mean something totally different than it used to mean? Is he making a proposition? How do I let him know I don't play those games? Punch his lights out?

“Well, thank you, I take a lot of pride in what I drive.” he said instead but not wanting to have to give the guided tour.

“Sure can tell. I hope to own something like that some day. She's a beaut.” The young man continued on his way.

Someone else caught his eye on his walk toward the entrance. Maybe actually something else. It was the tightest little behind he had the pleasure of watching in a long time. Two perfect handfuls bumping back and forth in denim rhythm. She turned towards him as she climbed up to a passenger door on a Kenworth and toyed with a ribbon looped loosely around the side mirror. The front top half was as pleasing as the bottom rear view. Under her open jacket he could see golden globes straining across and spilling above a knit scooped neck tee. If only that scooped a little lower I could scope all of her assets.

She caught him admiring the scenery and gave a come hither smile as she slipped the ribbon off the mirror and slid inside the door. He almost came hither but before the light winked out he realized the guy in the driver's seat was in the driver's seat already making his move toward his prize as she wiggled out of the jacket.

Now he'd come across some lot lizards in his day but they were a rare breed as of late and none of them ever looked like the one he thought he saw. Maybe she was a mirage. Maybe it was wishful thinking because he really missed the days when he could count on a full body rub as part of his truck driving therapy. Maybe he wished he still had a wife waiting for him at home. Maybe it had been too #$*?-ing long!

After making an adjustment in his boxers he continued on toward the sign that said 'Alyce's Restaurant', the only entrance he could find. At the counter he put his name on the list to be called when a shower became available. The wait would be at least an hour so he found an empty table in the restaurant area and started examining the menu.

“How do you like your coffee, Drifter?”

He slowly raised his eyes and was greeted by a matching pair of welcoming bosoms nearly busting out of the tight scooped neck tee. He needed to look no higher.

“Like I like my women. Full bodied with extra cream. And how did you know my handle?”

“You are all drifters coming in here. And for your information my eyes are up here. You're a driver so I know you're not blind.”

“Being blinded by those headlights, though! I'm eyeballing what you want me to see. Good for extra green stamps. The one with the heart on it is named 'Cassie'. What's the other one's name? Since they are obviously twins think I'll call her 'Sassie'.”

“Truth be known there are slight differences but not many get to find that out. So what will you have that is on the menu since they are not.”

“Well, now, what is the specialty of Alyce's Restaurant. Has a familiar ring to it.”

“You can have any thing you want at Alyce's Restaurant, except Alyce.”

“Does Alyce resemble Cassie or Sassie?” With great effort he tore his eyes away from the girls fighting for position within the knit fabric and raised them up to look at her smiling eyes framed by silvery hair mimicking his own. It caused one of his rare smiles to brighten the demeanor of both of them.

“That's Alyce.” She points to a bald guy with a pot belly and sagging tits in a grimy apron behind a counter.

“No. Not interested in that. Not sure I could stomach anything he serves up either. Any other eating establishments within walking distance?”

“Would you care for two eggs sunny side up with a warm buttered bun and long strips of bacon on the side plus coffee the way you like it?”

“Sounds about perfect.”

“Remember this in fours. A quarter mile down the frontage road, fourth street on the right, fourth house on the left. Got it? Sunrise.”

When he arrived she answered the door wearing a pink bathrobe. He kicked the door shut behind him as she dropped the robe. She spoke the truth. Cassie and Sassie were not exactly twins after all.

February 16, 2024 07:09

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Alexis Araneta
11:08 Feb 16, 2024

Oooh, interesting take on the prompt. The flow of the story was good. It kept me on my toes on what happens next. Great job!


Mary Bendickson
12:04 Feb 16, 2024

Do a few ballet moves while on your toes. Thanks for liking and commenting. Tried for something different.


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Kristi Gott
08:46 Feb 16, 2024

This story does a very good job of featuring the concept in the prompt. I have known some friends who were truck drivers. You portrayed your main character's personality with originality and authenticity. The story moves along rapidly with a light tone and the ending is clever. Well done!


Mary Bendickson
08:52 Feb 16, 2024

Thanks. Not a very lovey-dovey story for the big V day. But thought I would try something a little out there.


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