David Kahn had always enjoyed standing outside local diners to pass out the morning editions of the daily propaganda fliers. It was much better than sitting in the dimly lit Confederate States of America Media office that reeked of old books and dust. Though, on this particular day, David felt especially good. Could be the weather, David thought to himself, Atlanta always had nice weather. Must be better than the North’s.
At around noon, David felt he had passed out enough posters for the day, and so he decided to grab a bite. He turned away from the baking street and toward the rustic dinner. A large white sign was slapped on to the glass door of the diner, “WHITES ONLY!” A smirk crept across David’s pale face, and his heart filled with an overwhelming sense of national pride as he walked towards the door.
As he opened the door, David was struck with a blast of cold air. “Hey, honey, have a seat and I’ll get right to ya,” a waitress called from behind the bar. David did as suggested and he walked over to a shiny, red leather booth. Dust was slowly dancing above the seat in the sunlight.
David sat down in the seat, and proceeded to look at the menu that was lying in front of him. He always enjoyed looking at the creative names that local diners had for their products. On this particular menu, the usual egg whites were called “All Whites, No Yellows”. He let out a quiet chuckle, and scanned the racist menu for his lunch.
A short, blonde girl wearing a pink dress walked over to him, “Heyya! What can I get for ya today?”
“I’ll have a Liberade, and an order of Freedom Fries.”
“Got it. It’ll be right out.”
David thanked the young woman, and looked out the window. He was not surprised to see teenagers skipping school. I remember when Roy and I would do that religiously, he recalled. Looking back on it, David had regretted doing that. His father, Frederik, would always scold him and threaten to punish him when he received messages from the school. Pops always was a hard-ass. Then again all the SS are. Why do we need them anyway? Nazi Germany has no business sending their elites over here.
Coincidentally, David watched as three SS officers made their way down the sidewalk in front of the diner. He didn’t agree with them being here, but he respected the CSA’s decision to have them. The CSA’s military was not large enough to hold the United States back, and the Third Reich was the only country that could hold them back. “Here’s your drink, hun,” the waitress spoke, and also handed him the receipt.
“Ah, thank you,” David replied as he gently took them. He sat down his Liberade, opened his straw, and drank the cold, refreshing sweetness of the lemonade. The bells on the diner door chimed.
David looked up to see who was coming in, and his eyes were met with the living embodiment of beauty. His eyes were practically throbbing hearts as he stared at the gorgeous women walking in. Her hair was dark brown, and her skin was a light tan. David was in awe with the sheer amount of breathtaking beauty this woman possessed. His eyes were locked as she sat down at the bar, right next to the register.
By the time his food had arrived, David had made up his mind that he would get her number when he paid for his meal. Because of this, he scarfed his fries of freedom down like a dog that hard been starved for a week. The fries were perfect, a nice, crispy golden brown, and they tasted just as advertised: salty freedom. I’ll have to come back here more often, David thought, the food is delicious. I wonder if she’s a regular.
An hour flew by while David was eating, but not a minute passed without a glance at the beautiful strange. He stood up, grabbed his torn, weathered wallet out of his back pocket, and walked up to the register. Good Lord, I haven’t been this nervous in such a long time, David sneered as he felt the sweat bead across his forehead. His hands shook as he handed the money over to the cashier. He looked out of the corner of his eye at the goddess sitting at the bar next to him. Trembling, he called to her, “Hey, how are you doing today?”
The woman looked up startled, and smiled, “I’m doing quite alright. You?”
“I’m great.” David looked back at the cashier and received his change. He stood there in an awkward pause, and looked back over at the beauty. “So, I was just wondering… can I have your number?”
She quickly looked back up at him, “I don’t own a phone.”
David sighed. “Oh, that’s a shame.”
David’s Aphrodite brightly grinned, “But, we can make plans to meet here again?”
“Yeah, sure. Sounds great.”
“Excuse me,” a man irritably stated behind David, who apologized and hurriedly stepped out of the way. He sat down next to the girl, “What are you doing next Friday?”
“I have some errands to run in the morning, but we could meet here around 7 P.M.?”
“Works for me,” David got up, “so I’ll see you then?”
David’s heart was doing cartwheels of anxiety and glee as he walked out of the diner, and back into the sweltering heat.
David arrived at his shoddy, old apartment around eight that night. He shut the door behind him, sighed, and dropped his bag. The bag was so heavy, you could almost hear the nationalism hitting the floor. Despite feeling hungry, David was worn out, and just wanted to sleep, to end the day, and to see the woman again. No matter what he tried to focus on, he could not get her out of his head. David scoffed and thought, So, is this what love is like? He felt disbelief, because everyone had always drove into his head that no one knows what love is. With these thoughts pounding into his head, David laid down in bed, and slept.
The following Friday, David stood outside the diner smoking a cigarette. Where is she, he thought to himself, maybe I’m early. I left the house at 6:30, so it should be seven now. I’ll wait more.
He finished his cigarette, but his nerves were still a mess. And there she was. David watched as she made her way across the street towards him, still looking as fine as the day he first saw her. He called out, “Fancy seeing you here!”
“Yeah, I bet,” she smiled.
“Let’s get inside,” he laughed, “I’m starving.” David opened the door for her. She looked at him and smiled before proceeding into the near-empty diner. “We ought to sit in the booth I sat in the last time I was here.” She nodded, and they walked to the booth together.
“After you,” he grinned as he motioned for her to sit in the opposite booth.
“Hey y’all, I’ll get to ya in a moment,” a waitress called out.
David’s stomach growled, breaking the silence. “I’m glad we decided to come back here.”
“Yeah, me too,” she kindly said. “You know, I have no clue what I want.”
“Get whatever you’d like. I’m paying,” David smirked.
“Thank you,” she said as she continued to browse the menu.
David’s mouth began to water when he thought about those Freedom Fries. Nice salty, freedom. I think I’ll have to get some more of those, he thought to himself. His eyes continued to scan the menu. Over in the drink section, he browsed their specialty drinks. The vanilla milkshake, “The White Supreme.” So, some Freedom Fries, a White Supreme, and maybe a Southern Steak. “Okay, I know what I want,” he said to her.
“You know, I’m just quite not sure what I want,” she sighed.
“Aw come on, get yourself some tenders or something,” he laughed, “That’s the go-to when you don’t know what you want.”
“Yeah, I guess you’re right.”
“I know I’m right,” David winked. A waitress with a pink ribbon in her hair walked over to the booth.
“Hey, what can I get for ya tonight,” she inquired. David gave her the orders, and the waitress scribbled it all down onto her little notepad. “Okay, your drinks will be right out.”
The two sat at the table silent for a second. David, twiddling his thumbs asked, “So where are you from?”
“I’m from Louisiana. New Orleans.”
“Wow, really? What are you doing all the way over here?”
“Business, I suppose.”
David nodded, respecting that she didn’t want to talk about it. “You know, I don’t think I ever got your name.”
She smirked, “You didn’t.”
“What is it?” David asked while rubbing the back of his neck, and his face turning red.
“Good to know, Laura. My name is David.”
The waitress walked over, “Here’s one White Supreme, and a Liberade. Your food should be done in just a few minutes, okay?”
“Yep, thank you very much,” David called out as the waitress walked away. “You have any family in ole New Orleans?”
“No,” she shook her head.
“Oh, of course you do.”
“I don’t. I was an orphan.”
“Ah, I am sorry to hear that. What happened to your parents?”
“My parents got into a car accident.”
“Wow that’s rough,” David sighed, and after a long pause said “So what do you do for business, Laura?”
“Courier,” she softly said as her eyes shifted.
David noticing how uneasy she became, was unsure whether or not he kept wanting to ask personal questions.
“You excited for you food?” he questioned with a smile.
“I am. The food here is quite good actually.”
“Oh yeah? Do you come here often?”
“I’d say I try to come once a month,” Laura pondered.
“Wow, I’m glad I came when I did then,” he grinned. David held out his hand, and looked her in the eyes. Laura stuck her hand out and grasped his. Holy shit, he screamed in his head, that was quick. I think she likes me about the same as I like her. I can’t believe this.
Time flew by about as quick as a speeding train as the two chatted up, sometimes breaking the silence in the diner by loud bursts of laughter. The waitress walked over to the soon-to-be couple with a platter of edible liberty.
“Here’s your guys’ order,” she spoke out as she laid the plates down onto the table.
“Wow, this looks great,” David exclaimed.
“Right,” Laura said.
David’s mouth was practically the Atlantic as he began to cut up his steak. It looked astounding, it was a nice brown, and the inside was a light pink.
Half an hour later, David laid back into the cushiony leather of the booth, “Wow, I am stuffed.”
“Yeah, me too,” Laura giggled. “What are you doing the rest of the night?”
“Well, I didn’t get to read the paper today, so I was planning on going home, reading the paper, and probably heading to bed.”
“Would you like some company?”
David looked at her for a minute, dumbfounded. Wow, she already wants to come back to my place? “Sure, why the hell not,” he grinned.