‘Encounter At Eddie’s All-night Diner’
Eddie’s All-night Diner may not be in the Michelin guides, but when a voyeuristic, self-proclaimed “food intuitive” meets the king of the carnivores – a man who enjoys food he can get messy with — intuition is out the plate-glass window and messy, saucy, dripping lust is the main course.
I watch a man in a pin-stripe suit feed his dress-for-success colleague lemon meringue pie. What starts as the old I’ll-let-you-taste-mine-if-you-let-me-taste-yours ploy rapidly evolves into oral sex on a fork, tongues darting, lips smacking and teeth just barely grazing the flash of stainless steel as they devour sweet tart creaminess. A generous dollop of meringue topples slo-mo off his fork down into his colleague’s generous cleavage. They both laugh nervously, and she doesn’t decline his help to extricate the offending egg whites. She opens the top button of her blouse and thrusts push-up bra-ed tits against his proffered napkin. But it’s clear to me they’d both much prefer he use his tongue.
The place is particularly crowded, and no one notices me squirming in the corner booth, with my imagination fanning the flames, inventing numerous scenarios to fit the covert business meeting that brings this pair to Eddie’s All-night Diner after hours. Their briefcases are still in tow; their Blackberries are perched on the table at the ready. But they’re sitting side by side instead of across from each other. Clearly the unprofessional invasion of personal space doesn’t concern them. But it very much concerns me. Amazing how slick naugahide gets beneath an excited bare cunt.