One night stand

One night stand

fiction
edward w pritchard

She looked at me strangely when I ordered my quesadillas and  she put her hand on my shoulder and let it linger across my upper back when she delivered it to my table as i tried to figure what I had ordered.  It wasn't  the American version of the cheesy Mexican concoction I had wanted. Instead it was more sweet than  cheese sandwich like and looked a little like a flattened cupcake. Still it was very delicious and when I ordered another she brought three and sat next to me as I ate. She had an unusual accent but she told me she was from Guatemala. She said Guatemalan food was different than Mexican food and different parts of Guatemala prepared food in different regional styles.

I sat at the tables at the Cherry Blossom festival in Barberton, Ohio and waited for her while she worked at the food stand serving Guatemalan food. Later, after she got off work we went back to her house and I spent the night. That was the first and last time I had Guatemalan food but I enjoyed it and would try it again given the opportunity. A couple of years later I found out she wasn't a waitress or cook but an nontenured Professor over at Kent State University. By then it was too late to call.