Burgers

The line-cook flipped over twelve patties in a row, side-stepping along the griddle. Reaching up, she plucked pickles and tomatoes and lay them on the toasted buns. Johnny watched her from his seat near the pass. Her ass shifted like a hefty shopping bag. Some piece of meat, he thought, tearing his club sandwich.

She flipped the burgers again after two minutes and laid cheese on every other patty. I got to have this girl, Johnny thought, doodling on his napkin. This one is tight. He threw his bacon to the damp dog at his feet, jabbed a tooth pick in his gums, spat on his fingers and slicked his eyebrows. He threw out an arm for the waitress. ‘Give me some of them burgers, will ya?’ he said, sweating.