November Writing Challenge: Coffee

5:30 am, Ann starts stacking the coffee-filled filters to prepare for the morning breakfast rush at the diner her play uncle owns. Blowing gently on the top of the pile of white filters in her hand, she pulls off the top one her breathe set free, and sets in on the counter. As she rips open the pre-measured foil coffee packet of Farmer's Brothers, her mind wonders if that interesting customer will come in today: that woman who looks sort of like a boy in her cap and man's pants, who sits with the owner's nephew and friends in the back corner. She is kind of curt and gruff, and laughs at the dirty jokes the guys tell, and occasionally tosses a greedy-eyed look in the direction of Ann and her breasts that pop out of her black and white waitress uniform. That look always gives Ann a rush of adrenaline, a strange warmth comes over her body head to toe in an instant. She wishes her boyfriend's kisses gave her that kind of feeling. She squeezes her thighs together until the memory-induced arousal fades. The foil packet emptied in the filter, she sprinkles a little salt on top to cut the bitter, then blows apart another white filter, adds to the top of the pile and repeats this process until there are at least ten pots of coffee prepped, while the three brew on the hot plates: two regular, one decaf. It will be ten years until she realizes why that boyish-woman's glances give her such a rush. And once Ann figures it out, there will be no turning back.