I had lunch by myself today. It was at a little retaurant on the corner near where I work. It has great prices, a nice terrasse and some even nicer waitresses (my regular one is Lana), so I go there regularly. And today, as I was finishing my coffee and Lana (God bless her long thighs and the restaurant’s short skirts!) was bringing me my tab, I noticed a hobo not 10 meters away, adjusting his camera and taking a shot of Lana.
Except it wasn’t HIS camera. Hobos don’t have $3000 cameras around their necks. I’m sure it was Meghan’s. But before I could react or say something, he snapped the shot. I immediately turned toward Lana (I’m not stupid, guys!).
I heard some kind of snap coming from near Lana’s waist, but saw nothing. She yelped a little and flung a hand toward her hips, but not fast enough. I saw something drop from beneath her skirt and gently hit the floor. I looked down: it was a nice lacy thong. I looked up and saw that Lana was blushing furiously. There was an awkward silence, then I smiled and pointed at the thong. “I should probably pick that up for you, right?”
Lana blushed even more and forced herself to smile. “Um, yeah, if you please? I don’t think I should bend down, right now…”
So I handed her the undergarment and gave her a generous tip. When I looked at the street, the hobo photograph was gone, and Meghan’s camera with him.
Jaycee
