I had a nice spliff head-buzz when I saw her running by in the Spring. I remembered her face and especially her form from the good romp at Tampico, in the winter months. Mikey's Santa Cruz DJ debut.
He was good, Mikey. By which I mean to say he was good at music, not just DJ-ing. His hit single from high school, "Shake ya dicks," still to this day brings tears to my eyes. To be blunt, it was a gut-busting time.
The crowd at Tampico was entirely girls with the exception of Matty Mike and I. And Matty kind of looks like a girl already, so really it was just Mikey and me. And all girls. Katie's friends. All girls, both Mikeys, a Matty and me. Her name was Brittany.
One of two Brittanys. Because there were two Brittanys there that drunken night. One latin and blonde hair, she was thin in a tight blue dress, with a sexy way about her. She had nice lips and a skinny little booty. One bright eyes and tight lips, with hips, she was every one of my dreams.
She had good running form. That says a lot about a lady. She spoke soft, and for dramatic effect, always waited just a half-second longer than normal to respond. And sometimes she didn't respond at all, just smiled with a cringe and desire at my chest before I grabbed her.
I remember seeing her from our ground floor porch, looking out across the long grass at Grandview. She was just rounding the soft corner where the road bends around to the right towards the 1 and West Cliff. I was high and decided to jump on my bike after her. It was the way she ran, the figure she cut in the winter sunlight. I caught up and slowed down beside her, and gave her the old double-take. "You're Katie's friend. From Tampico."
"You're Mikey's roommate." Just a glance at me. She kept running, and panting, and her skin glistened in the brisk air. "Where you biking to?"
"Checking the surf. Where are you running to?"
"To Kelly's."
"That's funny. I work there."
There's a sparkle in her eye, and she smiled. "Oh you do, do you," she said, slowing her pace, taking stock of me. "So you can get me bread then."
"I would love to get you bread," I said. "Right when they close I can grab some. What's your number."
She gave me her number like that. Girls love a boy in a bakery, I guess.
[to be continued]
