Dicks

There are basically two definitions of "dick," when not a proper name. First, there's the obvious, anatomical one. The other refers to people who are one.

A man I used to work with IS one. He's the printer, but you'd think he was King of England when you go out to eat with him. He likes his servers to be transparent. Serve his whims, at his whim, and say "Yes, sir," and be delighted with it. If he's unhappy with a server, he makes it known and infects those around him with it.

Well....Greg is anything but transparent.

Greg is a lively waiter. He hassles and plays with his customers. He makes them smile. Except for Dick.

Some of my former coworkers organized a little group for lunch, made up of those who worked closely with me. Sweet of them. But Dick went, too. And I'd forgotten how he can be.

We went to Friday's for lunch. I thought it would help boost Greg's tips for the day. It was a disaster waiting to happen.

Greg stopped to take our drink orders. When Dick gave his, he was his usual loud, somewhat pretentious self. To those of us who know him as a tremendous loudmouth, what happened next was hilarity itself.

Greg leaned in and said, "Sir, please. Inside voice."

Now, I've seen Greg say this to other people. He simply had no idea what a nail he'd struck on the head this time. Dick fumed. When Greg left, Dick turned to me and said, "I don't think I like him."

I replied, "Really? I like him very much." Dick frowned.

To give you an idea of how this went, here are some snippets.

After Dick drained his tea glass very quickly, Greg said, "Now, sir, I'm going to have to ask you to slow down. Do you have a designated driver?"
Dick: "How about you just keep refilling it whenever I want. Isn't that what you're paid to do?"

Dick later decides to switch from tea to Diet Coke. He orders that.
Greg: "Oh, I see! Trying to confuse me, are you?"
Dick: "No, that's just what I feel like drinking. It's your job to get it for me."

Greg threw me a wide-eyed look and decided to back off the kidding around with Dick. Too late. The man was in full hautiness.

From that point forward, Greg did minimal kidding with us....except with me and one of my friends. This is the same friend who was on the phone with me when I first met Greg. She likes him. Sitting beside me, she noticed little things, like how he'd lean on my chair while he was talking and make little circles on my back with his thumb. Subtle, and sweet.

Later, she said, "It's just obvious how much he likes you. The way he looks at you, touches you. Girl, he's so sweet."

I apologized to him later for Dick's behavior. He blew it off, and moved on. "I made enough tips yesterday to get some stuff I needed for the house," he said. "Like something to eat other than chicken pot pie. And I picked up something for you, too." He'd give it to me later, after his shift.

Another afternoon of his pausing to visit with me, saying provocative things about getting off work and coming to visit me. "I wish I didn't have so much to do tonight," he said. "I'd rather be with you. But I'm only one guy...whadda ya want from me?" He laughed and started to walk away.

"I think you know the answer to that, " I said quietly. He came right back to me, leaning on the table, his face inches from mine.

"What?"

"I said, you know what I want from you."

He raised his brows. "What's that?"

"I want YOU," I said, emphatically.

His face changed a little, more serious. He looked at me intently. "Do you really?" I nodded.

"That's good," he said, and bounded off.

A few minutes later, he came back and stood opposite me. He folded his arms and said, "What are you doing?"

I looked at the iPod screen, in my hand, and said, "Uhmmm......playing solitaire?"

"No, I mean...." his eyes dropped from my face to my chest. I looked down. My sweater had fallen, exposing some impressive cleavage. "Yikes!" I said, and rearranged my sweater to a more decent level.

"Oh, I don't mind!" he laughed. "It's just that...." and he gestured around to the other server nearby.

Later, he stopped and whispered, "I can't wait to get out of here. I think I might just last longer today. I can feel it!" And he bounded off again.

He came to my room later, and gave me a candle he'd picked out. It has a soft, fruity smell to it. He looked a little bashful when he gave it to me. "It's not much, because I'm broke," he said, apologetically, "but I wanted to do something for you."

So sweet. I smiled, and said it was perfect and I love it, and thanked him. He wrapped me up in his arms. A little while later, we found a way to fit together that seemed to help him hold on longer.

"This is perfect," he said. "I can still see your pretty face, but I don't lose control." Well....almost. It still was longer than before, though. "It's just your fault," he laughed. "It's not fair!"

"I think you could fall for me," he whispered, into my shoulder.

"Yes," I said. "I like you quite a lot."

"I like you, too," he said. "But don't tell anyone at work or I'll get fired!" I laughed.

I'll see him tomorrow. I get to relax now. Sleep a little late. Meet friends for lunch. Hopefully, he'll be free tomorrow night. Keep the fingers crossed, dear diary!