Love Among the Coffee Beans

The mariachi band comes to Casa Sombrero every Wednesday, which is the day that Shayla and I go to said restaurant. So the music is playing and the people are talking over the loudness of the trumpets and the shouting/singing and waiters and waitresses are skating around the place with huge unbalanced trays of food.

I’ve never understood how waiters and waitresses can carry something like that.

It just doesn’t make sense to me.

“Shayla! Riku!” yells a heavily accented voice over the restaurant noise as a tall man with black hair that’s gelled up into spikes and old glasses with tape in the middle of the two lenses walks from the kitchen.

“Eduardo!” we both yell in return.

Eduardo makes his way over to the booth Shay and I are sitting at with a huge smile on his face. Next to him is a woman of Mexican decent with a sweet face and long black hair parted down the middle.

I try not to notice but she’s got extremely large… boobs.

“This is Boobie,” Eduardo announces happily, gesturing to the woman’s abnormally sized… boob.

I blink.

It takes me a while to realize that he’s actually introducing us to her.

As in, Boobie is her name.

“Uh, how do you spell that?” is the first thing out of my mouth.

Boobie looks confused. “B-U-B-I?” she says, also with a heavy accent.

“Bubi is my wife,” Eduardo says proudly.

“Oh,” I reply, realizing this is the woman he’s been gushing about. “The one who’s about to have a baby.”

Of course she is, he only has one wife.

Unless he’s into polygamy.

Which I don’t think he is.

Shayla has her head ducked down a little, her hand over her mouth.

She hasn’t said anything.

“Well. Hi, Bubi. It’s nice to meet you, Bubi. How are you, Bubi? Congrats on the baby, Bubi.”

The table starts quivering for some unknown reason.

Termites?

“Two,” Bubi corrects.

“It’s nice to finally meet you,” Shayla says and then shoots me a glare, the table continues to quiver.

Mutant termites?

I smile at Bubi. “Well, congrats on two babies then, Bubi.”

“Well,” Eduardo says, his arm around Bubi’s waist. “It was nice chatting with you two, but I have to get back to work now.”

And with that, he and Bubi leave the table.

I let out an unattractive snort-laugh that I’ve been holding in for a while now.

“Why aren’t you writhing in pain?!”

I stop laughing, move my hand from my mouth and look at her funny. “…What?”

“I’m kicking—“ She looks under the table and pops back up. “…The table…”

Another snort-laugh.

“And that, dear Shayla, is why I love you.”

That was suave.

I liked that.

Why can’t I do that more often?

“…Because I kick tables…?”

I break out into that crooked smile that I hate but Shayla seemingly loves. “Exactly.”