This week, I’m posting the first part of a flash fiction horror story I wrote some time back. It’s only been slightly polished. Oh, fair warning, it’s probably a PG-13 rating.
The Drive-Thru Girl
by Adam Huddleston
So, there’s this girl that works the drive-thru at the Burger Barn on Alton Street. I’ve only seen her at the first window, you know, the one where you pay. She always smiles as she’s giving me my receipt; and she’s gorgeous. Light blonde hair, a little below shoulder length and blue eyes that reflect the glow of the register monitor in front of her. Well, this morning something pretty weird happened.
I drove through and ordered my usual sausage biscuit combo. I had my fingers crossed that she was at the window, and sure enough, there she was. I paid and when she handed me my receipt, I noticed there was this little card there; a business card. On the back was a phone number scribbled in blue ink.
I looked up at her and she gave me a wink and pressed her finger to her lips (lovely, full lips) in a shush gesture. I literally felt a buzz run through my legs. I opened my mouth to say something, not sure what exactly, and she slid her window closed with a snap.
Pulled forward, got my food. It was good as usual. Hot and greasy constitutes “good” in this case. I spent the rest of the day running my fingers over the smooth paper of that business card in my pocket. Should I call? I always thought of myself as a faithful husband, but how often does a chance like this come around?
I thought about my wife and kids. Then I thought about those red lips and how I wanted to explore them and every inch of her wonderful body. What if I just called and talked? That wouldn’t be cheating, right? Maybe she just wanted to talk?
I stuck around for a bit after the office closed this afternoon. I stared at that phone number for a few minutes then dialed.
The voice that answered after the second ring was soft and sensual. My heart melted and if I hadn’t been in my cushioned office chair, I’m pretty sure I would have slid into the floor.
“Hello?” I answered back.
“I’m glad you called,” she whispered.
“Yeah, well, I wasn’t sure if…so, how’s it going? Your biscuits were great!” I winced.
“Hehe, thanks. So, what are you doing now?”
I thought for a second. I couldn’t tell her I was about to go home to my family. If this was going to work, I had to play it cool. Super cool.
“Not much, not much. What are you up to?”
“Do you want to see me? If you do, I’m at 6700 West Driver. There’s a code to get in. Just type all sixes.”
My brain was scrambled. I blurted out something incoherent then hung up the phone. It stared at me accusingly so I jumped up and headed out the door.