Pascagoula Shuffle Chapter #2

A few days later I found out that Kat was one of those girls who wouldn't let you see her in the morning without her makeup.Up before me she'd jump in the shower and be sitting there in the kitchen with a habitual cup of coffee and her cigarette dangling from her lips like Ava Gardner waiting for Frankie to fire up the 51 Eldorado so they could go down to Chez Nou and have that first morning martini.Sitting at breakfast at the Pancake House on Lavista she chatted away while I contemplated her mole under her right eye and her left handedness I've always found irresistible in a woman.Eventually over her third cup of coffee she talked about her family in Pascagoula, their run ins with the law and her narrow escape from her genetic trajectory.Well, they weren't all bad, her grandmother doted on her and she had lived with her cousins while going to college.Now I'm a good listener a if a Dame is a good looker I can sit entranced for hours and watch her lips move, their mood changing throughout the dialogue and yes,...I can learn a lot from a gal if they just keep talking.So far so good , just the usual neurosis of the modern woman.She was to young to want kids but old enough to recognize their value,to young to be burned out yet ,but old enough to know the score.
I walked her back to her Barracuda and we leaned up against her car for a while and made plans for dinner a couple of nights later.She had a way of tossing her Betty Page bob over one eye and winking as she reved the old V8 before she pulled away from you that made you feel like you had just walked into the screen of American Graffiti and weren't a bit player anymore.Hurtling down the road like Steve Mcqueen, coming to that big curve ahead,keeping on the gas pedal to hold the front end down as you started that drift into the curve.