Vicki

Walking down the street during the morning rush with a paper coffee cup in my hand.  A short firecracker of a girl, in her waitress uniform, nametag "Vicki", is moving fast in the opposite direction with a grocery bag.  I suppose they ran out of something back at the diner.  She locks eyes with me and, smiling bright, she says - "Is that coffee you're drinking, my man?"  She says this in a way that is somehow both sunny and sultry, a bit of a Mexican accent, too.  I say "yes" and she says "Oh my man!"  Neither of us slows and she's past.  A couple of others in the morning rush crowd turn their heads slightly.  And I think,  "Huh? ... Cool."