blue plate special

he looked at the young woman beside him as she ate her strawberry-drenched waffles and crispy bacon. his mouth watered at the thought of it.
“i’m only one seat away,” he thought. “i can snatch it before she can even get her fat ass off the bench.”
instead, he took a swig of the tar-like swill they called coffee here and shook his head at himself. “what a sight i must be,” he thought. “i haven’t shaved in i don’t know how long, all my belongings are in this plastic bag, i’m wearing someone else’s pants and i’m not even sure whose blood is on my shoes.”
the smell of the bacon was driving him crazy. he reached down, hoping to make it appear as if he was adjusting a shoelace, his real intention to close the gap between himself and the food beside him.
the woman looked up at him, a drop of syrup at the corner of her mouth. she looked away just as her tongue slipped from between her lips to lick it away.
“dear god,” he thought, “let me lick her lips clean for her. that’s all. the taste of strawberries and a woman… her lips look so soft. it’s been so long.”
he sighed and looked out the window muttering to himself, “how did i get here?”
the woman glanced at him again and he realized he’d said that out loud. he quickly drained his styrofoam cup and gathered up his bag. he pushed himself up from the table, taking a moment at the apex to steady himself before shuffling away.
“she’s watching me leave,” he thought for no reason in particular.
“i should have said ‘hello’,” she thought at she watched him stop at the door and look around, trying to decide which way he would go.