Just a Geek

EPILOGUE: Hooters 2: Electric Boogaloo

A FEW WEEKS BEFORE THIS BOOK went to press, I met my best friend Darin for lunch in Old Town. He wanted to celebrate the impending arrival of his daughter, and I wanted to celebrate finishing this book and Dancing Barefoot’s success.

We met at the usual place, ahead of the lunchtime rush, so we could sit wherever we liked. We stood in the doorway, and Steve Miller blared above our heads that not only was he a joker, but he was a smoker and a midnight toker. He’s a busy guy, that Steve Miller. We looked around, and chose the section with the hottest waitress in the joint.

As we took our seats, she came over to our table: a classically beautiful girl in her early 20s. Long, jet black hair, flawless skin, long legs. Hooters. Her name tag said “Jessica.”

She sat on my lap and flirted with us as she took our order, all smiles and giggles. We ordered chili fries and anticipated a spirited game of “pull my finger” later on.

She stood up and left to put in our order. After a few steps, she stopped and turned around. She looked right at me and said, “You’re Wil Wheaton, aren’t you?”

“Oh for fuck’s sake,” I thought to myself. “This can not be happening to me again.”

My throat went dry. My face flushed and my pulse quickened. “Yeah,” I croaked, bracing myself.

She screwed up her courage and slowly walked back to our table. She leaned close to me and rested her hand on my thigh, her full, pouting lips just inches from mine. A simple silver chain encircled her neck, her hazel eyes were ringed with gold, and she smelled like Springtime. Her ample cleavage seductively longed to bust out from beneath her thin cotton T-shirt as she said, breathlessly, “I love your website. You’re a great writer.”