This is "Brody"
He's named after Roy Scheider's character in JAWS.
His dad loved the movie THAT much.
(Actually, that name is second choice because his mother
put her foot down on Rooster or Cogburn)
We've been together for twenty-four fabulous
and imaginary months!
We met when I was seated on a stool
at the counter
and ordered a cherry malted
from him at the hipster diner where he works.
He was giving me flirty face
when the whipped topping canister
slipped, projectile style, from his hands.
As he reached to keep it from smacking me in the face,
he knocked the cherry malted all over me.
He was relieved when I laughed
at the situation, instead of being angry.
I lifted up the bottom of my t-shirt
to cradle the sliding malt, so that no more spilled on to the floor.
He grabbed me, to help me to the restroom,
but pulled too hard and I crashed right into him.
We made a nice cherry malted sandwich.
More laughs, then he literally dragged me into the restroom,
said, "Stay" and disappeared.
A moment later he returned from his locker
with two shirts in hand.
A replacement work shirt for himself,
and the t-shirt he wore in to work
Without warning, he grabbed my shirt from the bottom
and pulled it off of me, over my head.
He pulled off his own, cherry malt gobbed shirt.
He used the cleaner portions of that to wipe excess
malt from my exposed torso.
Then he held it to my face and joked,
"here's your malt, cherry."
I instantly pulled a bit his shirt into my mouth
and sucked some of the goop of of it.
I smiled and said, "tasty".
He blushed like crazy
and softly wiped a dab of malt from the corner of my mouth
with his big thumb.
He got some paper towels,
cleaned us off properly and tossed his personal t-shirt to me.
He put my soaked shirt in a to-go bag and
then put his clean work shirt on, to my disappointment.
He escorted me back to my stool,
went behind the counter and made me a new malt.
When he handed it to me he said,
"This is on me."
To which I replied,
"I would enjoy that."
...And later that night, I did!