I pulled up to a coffee hut near Jacob and Lavina's house in Anchorage and the barista stepped to the window. It was one of those kiosks with a somewhat elevated floor and a window that is long in the vertical dimension so that when the barista moves about behind it, her full figure is on display and - by coincidence, I am certain - the figures always seem to be shapely.
Still, it is close to their house, I had promised Margie and Lavina that I would bring them each a cup, the coffee is Kaladi and usually very good, so I pulled up and ordered three.
Shortly afterward, the barista found that she had to perform a task that required her to bend over, toward me. This put her breasts within arm's reach and right at my eye level. Their magnetism pulled my eyes right to them. I then discovered that I was looking, not at cleavage, but at breasts - full breasts, in their entirety - and they were the kind of breasts that, once glimpsed... well, you know.
When such a sight is put in a front of a heterosexual male of any age, he cannot help but want to look at it. That is the way God made the human male and there is no way around it. That's how we are. Yet, I know that it would be impolite and unseemly for me to stare, so, naturally, I averted my eyes toward the nearby car wash. A GMC pickup truck was just emerging from one of the cleaning stalls. Steam rolled out with it and churned into the air all around it.
I watched that truck depart, then turned back to the window. The breasts were still there. The barista had to know, so I thought maybe it would be okay if I studied them for a bit, but I quickly rethought this position, turned away and watched another vehicle emerge from the steam and then depart.
I turned back... still there. I turned away.
Finally, the delightful breasts of the barista had been removed from my sight, she had handed me the coffees and I had paid and tipped her the same as I would have if she had been dressed like an old-fashioned school marm. I did not try to stuff the tip into anything. I just handed it to her. I drove away, feeling a bit shaken.
A few minutes later, I carried the coffees into the living room to give to Margie and Lavina. "I don't think that I should go back to that coffee hut," I said as I handed them their drinks.
"Why?" one or the other of them asked.
"I feel like I have just been to a strip club," I answered. They both laughed.
"Did you see something?" Lavina asked.
"Yes!" I answered. "Everything! From here up," I placed my hand at sternum level. "Even her nipples! Her nipples were fully exposed. So I don't think I had better go back there. I may be growing old, but I'm not dead."
Sometimes, when Margie holds a baby, she speaks for the baby, becomes its mouthpiece. Now she spoke for Jobe.
"Nipples? Oh, boy, grampa!" she spoke in happy baby tones. "Me know what to do with nipples! Me hungry. Me can make good use of those nipples."
We adults all laughed some more and then Lavina asked, "where did you get the coffee?"
"You know, that place right over there, where we usually get the coffee." The name had slipped me.
"The Hot Spot?" she asked again.
"Yes, the Hot Spot."
"The REALLY Hot Spot," she added.
"Yes," I agreed. "And they looked really nice, too."
To be quite honest with you, I still haven't fully gotten over it.
The worst part of it is, right now, Jobe cannot have mother's milk. Regular readers will recall that Margie went into town Sunday night, planning to spend four days and nights taking care of Jobe so that Lavina could go back to work.
Instead, Lavina got sick - very sick, painfully sick. e-coli sick. So Margie took care of both her and the baby and stayed a fifth day. Lavina is now feeling much better, but even so is taking medication that will prevent her from breast feeding Jobe again until May.
So Margie fed him some formula and then burped him.
A bit after 6:00 PM, Jacob came home from work with Kalib, who he had picked up from day care. A tennis ball preceded them up the stairs.
Muzzy snatched the tennis ball and made it his own.
Kalib walks across the living room floor without his tennis ball.
Where is the tennis ball now?
Here comes Martigny. Maybe she hid it.
Kalib, Lavina and Martigny. No tennis ball can be seen anywhere.
This cannot be disputed.
I was even more tired than Kalib and I knew that Margie was, too. I wanted to get going, headed back home.
Jacob and Lavina invited us to go to dinner with them at Taco King. We decided to delay our departure long enough to take them up on it.
Jacob left ahead of the rest of us, walking with Muzzy. Kalib and Jobe got buckled into their car seats in their family's Tahoe and, given the fact that Lavina was still weak, Margie drove them all.
I drove our car, so that we could head straight for home afterward.
I arrived at Taco King first and, as I waited outside for the others to arrive, an airplane flew overhead.
When dinner was over and it came time to say goodbye, Kalib jumped on his mom's shadow.
Then he jumped on "Shadow."
He stomps on Shadow's left leg.
Kalib, living in his grandfather's shadow.
Kalib, shadow hopping.
More shadow hoping.
Then it was time to go.
I should note that before I went to buy the coffee and pick Margie up, I had a little business meeting. Very soon, I will be working on a new project and can start paying bills again. Such can be life when you are a freelance photographer.
I am very glad about it - but this does not change the fact that, whatever projects I must take on to survive, I now see my real work and future as tied into the development of this blog. I will still put up that button, hopefully today and will work on other schemes to bring in blog-based funding. I give myself until July 14, 2011, to figure out how to make this thing self-sufficient.
And whoever you are in New Jersey, thank you. I will be in touch.