The first time I saw him sleeping he was ugly, so ugly, lying on that cream colored couch and wearing those khaki Lands End shorts. (He still has them, only now they are stained with grease and paint. The fly is broken.) A football game played, thin and distant, on the television.

I had knocked on the door. I had waited. Then I�d knocked again. He�d said, �Come over. Don�t bother knocking �cause I�ll probably be sleeping. Just walk right in and wake me up.� I nudged at the front door. The wind blew my hair. The evening soft and warm played on my arms. I turned my head into the breeze, buzzing with mosquitoes in the distance; filled with fresh promises, drying the breathless tear forming in the corner of my eye. The door had not opened. I pushed at it harder. It stood firm. I slowly turned the knob and pushed again. Now the jamb freed its prisoner and I, with blood rushing in my ears, walked into the room.

His wrist and hand floated above the back of the couch. This I knew. I�d seen it before and it was exquisite. Moving silently to the other side, I met with a shock. Under unruly grey hair, a primitive brow competed for space with an enormous nose. Who was this who slept? I�d broken into a stranger�s home. Was I an invader? I thought about sneaking out. I could have slipped out the door and run to my car and no one would have been the wiser for it, but the figure moved. A snort issued from his mouth and he sat up. It took some time reconciling this face with and the sleeping one I�d seen. This familiar face was warm, and looked at me with large dark eyes, a sarcastic half-smile, and a nearly black mustache. Where had the Neanderthal brow gone?

I�m not sure why I went there. I�d met him a few days before when I got his order wrong. He sat with a loud crowd, wearing a light linen suit. No one in the Keys wore suits. No one even wore shoes. Red rimmed sunglasses offset his surly smirk. He leaned back and raised his elbow onto the back of the chair next to him. A cigarette decorated that lovely hand. His legs were crossed at the knee, but in no way did he look feminine, he demanded a man�s respect. He walked on the earth. He was part of the world. All those guys were calling out their orders when he looked at me and said,

�You�re not going to get this order right.�

�Yes I am.�

�I bet you won�t�.

He�d cursed me and naturally I screwed up the order, almost. I laid the drinks down in front of the wrong people, but I had brought all the correct drinks and I thought that meant something. He teased me about it. Later he asked me if I would like to do something some day in the future. I told the other cocktail waitress. She said �Oh. Yeah. He asked me out about an hour ago.� For seventeen years I have thought that I was the second choice. It is only now, when I am writing about it that I realize how contrived her comment sounded.

The next night I worked he came in alone, surprising me with his casual dress. He ordered a �Dumb and Diet and a Vodka Tonic. �That�s strange�, Lenore said. �He never does that.� I thought that maybe he�d be meeting a friend. When I brought him his two drinks I asked him �Are you expecting someone else?�

�No, this one is for you�, he said as he slipped the vodka drink towards the edge of the table. �I know you get off work soon.� He was right.

We drove to �Banyan Bob�s�. The small dark area we danced in left us no choice but to become overly friendly with each other. Tiny candles in the corners threw flickering bursts of light on our skin. We danced to �Red Red Wine�, slowly undulating amongst the tropical plants and the closely spaced tables. The air was hot. He moved surely to the rhythm and I forgot to be uncomfortable. He looked in my eyes, holding my gaze and my hip. We danced through most of the night. Time had disappeared. We sent many strangers home together that night, but we went to our separate beds. Long after the band left, and the crowds cleared out, the night grew louder and we moved outdoors.

�Where do you want to go now?� He asked me.

I felt like going to his place, but thought that would be unladylike. Instead I said �Let�s go swimming�.

A gentle rain began to fall, splatting on the large banana leaves overhead. He kissed me. The rain fell harder. We pulled away from each other and ran under an awning. �You know, you ought to go home�� He started to say.

I walked to my car. He called out his address and said, �Come over tomorrow night. Don�t bother knocking��

Yvette works as the Lab Director for the City of Cocoa Beach, in Florida, and is new to submitting works for publication.