The laugh was legitimate, deep, a well of mirth mixed with a bit of good-natured cynicism. It had taken Wendy and Allie all of five minutes to figure out the two straight women who set them up had one lesbian friend each, and they were it.
Their common interests were somewhere down at the bottom of each of their interest spectrum, and the one thing they seemed to agree on-Scorcese-splintered over which film was his best.
Wendy had a gift card to a steak place that she had been aching to use, but judging a book completely by a cover, she had Allie pegged for a hardcore not-even-honey vegan.
When Allie suggested they hit a corner soft-serve ice cream outlet, Wendy fluttered with a bit of hope.
Allie politely let Wendy order first-another big plus, Wendy thought, buying Allie a temporary free pass for her stained blue jeans.
Wendy insisted on paying for her own, which Allie gave her a joking hard time about, but didn’t make it an issue.
Allie got a two flavor swirled cone, largest size they had.
She dug in as they walked away, not a hint of any oral allure, just hunger.
“I think,” Wendy said, “You accidentally tipped that kid a five instead of a single.”
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