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Greatest Game Ever Played

Updated on April 4, 2013

A short story that may become a part of something bigger. Enjoy. Please comment and share.

The Greatest Game Ever Played

I sit here every day. At this spot in the diner. Same cup of coffee. Same daily newspaper. Same sound of golf balls being plucked from the ground across the street. The greatest game ever played I thought. Same cop that comes in and gets two donuts and a caramel flavor coffee to go. And you. In the corner of the diner to my right, in a booth. Eating your triple stack with blueberry syrup.

I’m not sure the table can take all that sugar in one place. With your long golden hair and your hazel eyes. I’m not sure if you’re married, or have a significant other. Though, you’re always here alone. Every morning like me. Maybe we’re the same; maybe we’ll always be alone. She wipes her face with a baby wipe from her bag. Hm. She has kids, or maybe she just carries baby wipes around with her.

“What would you like sir?” The waitress stood in front of the counter as if she were there too long. You’d think by now she’d know what I will order. The same three eggs scrambled, three stripes of crispy bacon and toast.

“The usual,” I spoke.

“Well, I’m usually on the night shift, so what’s your usual?”

Figured, I thought she was a new face. I tell her my order. I’ve never been here at night. To be honest I don’t really know any bodies name.

I go back to watching the young woman. She’s on the phone now, probably talking to her boyfriend. Maybe arguing with her boyfriend.

She looks unhappy.

Maybe I should go cheer her up. What would I say.

Hi my name is… No that’s too cliché. Maybe, I noticed you from over there, you looked un happy so… No, not that either, what’s wrong with me can’t even figure out how I’d talk to her.

Maybe I should just go over there. I’d probably look like a complete ignoramus.

I can see the news on the above television is advising about a manhunt from Los Angeles. They have a sketch of the man on the screen. No one is taking notice however, they’re all to business listening to each other and arguing over gossip. The television is on silent anyway, I would like to hear what the reporter has to say.

I look back to the woman. Her head in her hands now as if she has been hurt. Now’s as good a time as any.

“Those murders are crazy huh?”

My train of thought derailed by the guy sitting to my left.

“The guy killed his wife and the guy she was screwing,” he says.

I smirk slightly at the thought, “sounds like as good a reason as any.”

“You must be happily married,” he says, I can hear the obvious sarcasm in his voice. His humor amused me.

“Happily divorced,” I responded.

“That’s unfortunate,”

“Not really, she was sleeping with her boss,”

“For a big salary I hope,”

“Not big enough,” I look back to the woman who is again on the phone. I need to get over there before she leaves.

“Got any kids?” He asks.

“A couple,” he’s starting to inquire about some personal information. He almost sounds like a cop.

The waitress brings me my food.

“How long you lived out here?”

“Who said I lived out here?”

“Just making conversation,” I guess he heard the irritation in my voice.

She’s still on the phone.

“I don’t really like it out here on the outskirts of the city, I really like the center of Los Angeles, it’s very lively.”

The bell rings, someone’s walking in. It’s two officers. Not the same officer from earlier, two different officers. I watch as they approach the waitress. They show her a picture. I read her lips.

Sorry, never seen him before, most of these people are regulars.

I smile slightly. They hand her the picture and a card. I assume so she can contact them if she sees anything, but she won’t, she barely wanted to talk to them. Probably because she’s been stealing money from the register, faster you get the cops out the faster you save your own ass.

This guy is still talking to me, I’m not even listening.

I look to my favorite pancake lover, she’s counting her cash, she’ll be leaving soon.

I eat a little faster.

“Did you hear what I said,” the guy is still talking, maybe this butter knife can shut him up.

“Heard what?” I responded.

“Those two cops that were just here are leading the investigation for finding that killer,”

Really. The only thing I got from those two walking in here was that they were screwing each other. How’s he know this, this guy is really starting to piss me off.

She’s beginning to leaving.

I throw a twenty on the table. She exits the door.

“It’s been fun, but I have to go,” I tell the guy.

I get up and follow her out of the diner.

She’s almost to her car.


She stops and looks at me, she smiles awkwardly.

“Hey, you’re my regular,” she says. “You coming for a dance tonight?”

“I might,”

“Don’t disappoint,” she smiles her beautiful smile. Truth is I only go there to feel alive, it’s her that makes me feel more than I usually do. “I guess I’ll see you later, I have to go.”

“Are you okay, you look worked up.”

She pauses, “they suspect my brother killed his wife and her boss. Apparently her boss was sleeping with a lot of women in the office.”

The story is unfolding nicely, at the expense of her brother. I should ask her out, would that be wrong.

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

“Thank you, it’s his own fault if he did it, he’s reckless and ridiculous. I’m he’s done worse than she did, she did deserve this.”

They never do, so they say.

“Maybe we should go out sometime, take your mind off it,” There I said it.

“I don’t know, I don’t date people I consider clients,” she says.

A stripper that has principles, funny.

“So don’t consider me a client,”

“You’re cute,” she hesitates. “When, would you like to go out.”

I can smell him, a drunken trucker is making his way towards us, this could only end badly, for him.

“How about Thursday night, I know you work Fridays,” he’s getting closer.

“So you know my schedule, that’s not creepy.”

Great. Think I’m scaring her off.

“It was a joke.”

“Hey baby,” the trucker is here. “I know you, you one of them angel city girls.” He grabs her arm, “why don’t you hop on for a ride.”

I’m going to snap his neck, “she’s a dancer, not a porn star.”

“Who the hell talking to you boy, run along.”

And just like that he was on my bad side, that’s considered the wrong side of the tracks. I put my hand on his chest and backed him away.

“I’ll see you Thursday,” I told her. She hands me a card from her purse.

“May have to have you around more often, I’ll see you later,” she gets into her car and begins to drive away.

“Who you think you is, you fixing to get your ass handed to you.”

This man’s English is horrific.

“Sir, you have two minutes, to get back to your truck,” I’m already counting he better go.

“Or what you gone do. You gone fight me boy, come on them.”

He can’t be serious, he wobbled over here. I don’t want to hurt this guy.

“One minute.”

“You counting like you gone do something boy,” he pushes me. He’s crossing the line. “I can count too, Imma count till five, and when I’m done, you gone be on the ground.”

Walk away sir.


I thought he said till five.


Just walk away.


I kind of want to hurt him.


This could be fun, I hope there’s no cops around.

“One,” he swings at me, I only move a little and he completely misses his target.

I punch him somewhere between the kidney and his bottom rim.

He goes down with one hit. That was fun.

He throws up. There goes all the whiskey he had. I don’t understand the lust with drinking till you can’t walk.

The greatest game ever played life.

I head back inside the diner, sit back in my same spot. I order another coffee.

A short story that may fall into a bigger story. Enjoy. Please leave comments.


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