Sheree has a little problem. She can’t keep a man.
She can often be found in her local cafe, lonely, eating lunch and sipping coffee. She reads the newspaper, shoulders slumped forward, chin resting on her left palm. The state of the world saddens her but deep within, she knows she wouldn’t be so affected by it if she had a man by her side.
‘Excuse me, Sheree?’ the waiter, John, asked. ‘Will that be all for today?’
Sheree looks up. Past his shoulder, on a shelf behind the counter, is the alcohol. She’s never been bothered before, her propensity to drown her sorrows starts and ends with coffee.
‘No John, I’m going to have a drink, please. A glass of the Margaret River pinot gris.’ She checked her watch.
‘Coming right up.’
When he returns with her wine, he clears her plate from the table. ‘Don’t like cabbage?’ he asks, after seeing the coleslaw hidden under the cutlery and napkin.
‘I love it, but I don’t like what it does to me hours after consuming it. You see, I have a date tonight, John. And I’m hoping that we make it to a second date.’
With a curt nod, John says, ‘Understood.’