“Hey Sappho, man, hotel bar?”

“Yeah. Yeah. You know I love hotel bars. Plus I’d love to see Winnie again.”

Stain and I walk into this dimly lit bar, seating ourselves at the stools.

Winnie is working, although, I think Winnie is always working weekday late shifts. She’s chatting with two reasonably respectable guys who are just a few seats over from us. They seem to be decent and polite. I can tell because they aren’t eyeballing her or trying to pick her up at her place of work.

Winnie looks over to see that Stain and I have arrived. She comes over to Stain and says: “hey, Stain, good to see you. How is my favorite of the two superheros? What can I get you to drink?”

“A pitcher of something with foam on it would be lovely, preferably amber in hue.”

“Coming up,” Winnie replies, without glancing at me.

She pours a pitcher, with barely any foam, gives us two frosted glasses, and fills them up, again with barely any foam. As she hands me a glass, I gently place my hand on hers. She doesn’t pull away, but she barely gives me a sideways glance.

“Winnie. I’ve missed you.”

Staring right at me now, she utters out: “if you missed me so badly, why didn’t you visit or call?”

“Things got hectic, but I’m here now.”

I grab onto her hand and she tightens her hand back. I smile at her, but her expression remains unchanged as she begins to shake my hand slightly up and down.

A moment passes, but she shakes her head, smiles at me, gives a quick look around the bar, as if to make sure nobody is watching then kisses me on the lips and whispers in my ear: “I’ve missed you too Sappho.”

Winnie starts to clean things around the bar, while one of the first of the two men who are seated at stools looks over at us. “Hey, are you guys from out-of-town also?”

Stain happily answers: “no no, we’re local. Where are you guys from?”

“We’re from Calgary.”

My ears perk up. “Ah, I was born in Calgary, lovely city.”

The second fellow answers back: “well, it used to be.”

“Oh?” I ask.

“Lots of China men moving in,” #2 Calgary boy says.

I look at Stain, waiting for a reaction but nothing.

The #1 Calgary boy starts talking: “did you here…” He starts looking around the bar, not noticing that Stain’s indeterminable race comes partly from the orient. “I was just making sure there weren’t any Chinese around. So, did you here about the winner of the Chinese beauty contest?”

Oh Zeus, I’m not contributing to this nonsense. Stain seems not to mind when he says: “no.”

#1 Calgary boy speaks up again: “me neither.”

Stain starts laughing. I have no idea why he’s contributing to this, but at the same time he seems really busy on his phone.

Winnie opens the backroom kitchen door and gives me a cocked headed “come here” sort of movement.

I tap Stain on the shoulder and quietly say. “I’ll be right back. You know, we need to do something about this. We need to be superheros, not spectators.”

Stain pretty much ignores me and keeps tapping away on his phone. “Yeah yeah, cool. Later.”

I walk into the kitchen. Winnie is waiting for me, wearing nothing, and lying across a counter underneath some cupboards.

“What about the cook?” I ask.

In the Kitchen
In the Kitchen (Photo credit: Laurent Lavì Lazzeresky)

Winnie begins touching herself. “He’ll be back from break soon. I guess you better hurry.”

I quickly remove my clothes, and this seems to make Winnie’s finger move a bit faster, as she lets out little moaning noises.

She grabs me and puts me into her tight warmness. I can’t reach her face to kiss her as the cupboards are blocking my head. It’s frustrating but hot at the same time.

Winnie begins to moan loudly and pulse and squeeze firmly. She contracts so hard that I get pushed out, along with a huge blast of watery liquid. She flips over and pushes herself off the counter, ducking so she doesn’t hit her head. She kisses me sweetly on the lips, takes my hand and walks me over to another counter, patting the counter. “Sit up here.”

I hop up on the counter, not asking any questions. She kisses me again, takes me in her hand, and says: “I want to taste it.”

“Taste what?”

She smiles and moves her head down and up and down, over and over again.

“Winnie. I’m about to…”

Winnie squeezes her hand tightly, replacing her mouth. It shoots across her chest, and over her shoulder. She doesn’t notice, but a large chunk shoots into a pot of open soup.

Winnie begins kissing me again, and I’m lost. My thoughts, my feelings, I just want to kiss her, forever. She hugs me and says: “chef’ll be back be soon.”


We get dressed quickly, hold hands, and walk out of the kitchen together. We part, and I sit next to Stain again.

Stain looks up from his phone for a moment and says: “ready to go?”

“Stain, it’s not like you to be on your phone this much. What’s going on?” I ask.

“You’re done right? We gotta go,” he says impatiently.

I know better than to question Stain at these moments. I motion to Winnie and start fiddling through my wallet. She comes over, touches my hand, kisses my lips, and says: “you know you don’t pay at my bar.”

“Thank you. I’ll see you soon.”

We smile at each. Winnie looks at Stain. “Bye Stain.”

“Later Winnie.”

Winnie puts up her index finger. “You bring Sappho back soon, OK?”

Stain just laughs and puts his phone away.

I stop just before the door.

“Sappho, we gotta go man.”

“I have to tell Winnie about the soup.”

“What soup?”

As I’m turning back, I hear Calgary boy #2 ask Winnie: “what kind of soup do you have?”

I look at Stain: “nah, never mind. Let’s go. So, what’s with phone?”

I hear the Calgary boys’ phones ringing, at the same time.

Stain opens the door for me and says: “I hacked into their phones and sent that same Chinese joke to everyone on their contact lists, business, family, everyone.”


“So what was with the soup?” Stain asks.

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