I’ve never tried fiction writing before and I’d really like to know what y’all think of this. Critiques welcome and encouraged.
The XJ was out and he was hungry. Waffle House was not his favorite, but it was on his way home and it was the only thing open at this time of night. The guy driving the XJ was pretty drunk and decided to take an ill-advised trip through some local hunting land, framed out the rig, and had to call Jesus to drag his ass out.
Jesus drove a 1977 Toyota Chinook with a four wheel drive conversion. He also lived in it at Confederate Memorial Park in Marbury, Alabama. He had no opinion on the park aside from the fact that it had camper hook-ups and was remote enough to see the stars on a clear night. He always thought that arguing over symbols such as Confederate monuments was a bit like debating the nature of God - completely subjective. And anyway, if it did piss people off, at least the park was in the middle of nowhere and people could just avoid seeing it.
He parked the Chinook with the front end facing toward the exit. He always did this in case there was trouble and he needed to escape quickly.
He sat down at the bar in the Waffle House and perused the menu. The waitress approached him.
“What can I get for you, hon?”
Still looking down, “Biscuits and gravy and a cup of coffee.”
After ordering, he glanced up to see a striking woman in her late 40s.
“You new here?” he asked. He’d been to Waffle House enough to recognize all the faces if not the names, and he hadn’t seen her here before.
“Yeah, just moved in from Guntersville. Long story.”
“Well, it’s nice to see a pretty face.” He knew it was rude to hit on waitresses, but there was something about her, some profound charisma that was drawing him to her. She had on no makeup, her face had weathered lines no doubt from cigarettes and experience. He was intrigued.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” she retorted, obviously not too keen on the rudeness. Plus, she’d heard it all before.
“Uh, um, I don’t know…” Jesus fumbled for a response.
“We’ll see how pretty I am when the tip comes.” She cracked a wry smile.
He smiled right back, sheepishly.
He finished his biscuits and gravy and asked for a coffee to go. He tipped her $20 on a $8.37 bill and figured “what the hell…” and left his business card.
“Jesus!!! Jesus!!!”
Startled, Jesus turned around to see the waitress following him in the parking lot.
“What the fuck is this?” pointing to the business card. “If you want to ask me out, have some balls and just do it.”
Now, at this moment, Jesus knew that this woman was different. His heartbeat elevated and he got a lump in his throat. He understood that the next few moments would be a story he told for the rest of his life. He knew things were about to change.
“What’s your name, sweetie?”
“Mary Margaret.”
What to do next? Ask her out for dinner. Nah, clearly something she’d already done and he suspected that she wanted adventure. He went for it.
“Well, we could go swimming at Corn Creek right now. When do you get off?”
“In thirty minutes.”
“I’ll wait, hell I live in my truck anyway.”
The new knowledge of his hoboicity didn’t phase her.
But, the pregnant pause between his ask and her response phased him. It seemed like an eternity.
“Sure, why the hell not, but I ain’t riding with you in that clapped out piece of shit.”
This is interesting. I think you should keep going. Maybe be careful with insider terms like XJ and framed out.