She’s young, probably in her early-twenties, a tight waist and natural milky skin. An auburn braid hangs to the top of her back, secure and healthy. Her eyes sparkle from behind her sleek and trendy black frames, and her freckles are subtle enough to be endearing while not noticeable enough to stare – though it’s difficult to find a man without at least one eye on her as she graces the room.
Small gages fit her spirit, a long warming smile is always present, as is the distinctive bleeding ink of a tiny shred of tribal heritage displayed on her left arm: beauty on a beauty. Wonderment in the eyes of a free-spirited vegetarian, bubbly and high on life, but perhaps her natural drug of choice changes in the evenings. She should be unattainable to all but the luckiest of alike suitors, however, a pleasant acquaintance worth having to brighten up the day.
If there was a flaw it would be the odd way she repeats the same saying in instant succession. Perhaps this is a defense or a form of comfort to survive the daily diner drudge of serving others, most staring at her backside as she walks away and tends to other tables. Unfortunate for her, a creepy obsession for some regulars.
A man is allowed to commend allure even if there is a lack of interest, for he will always be in love with another through eternity.