I’m wondering if I should escalate on the HB5 Eastern Europe who works at a nearby food shop. I go in there once a week or so for lunch and she always takes my order. I didn’t give her much thought but after I told her my slightly quirky preferences (I hate onions, mushrooms and peppers) remembered and we joked about it a few times.

I started to get that strange stirring of the loins. Not a proper “Whoa! I want to fuck her” stirring. This was more like if you’re thinking of a hot girl and suddenly turn the corner and see a car crash – you’ve got a boner but it feels inappropriate to the situation. She’s a nice size, very feminine, cute smile, and even cuter braces.

Braces! They should have me running a mile but instead I wonder whether I’d feel the cold steel on my teeth as we kiss. She’s got a few extra pounds, especially on the arse, but I wonder what type of metal-mouthed smile she’d come up with if I gave it a firm smack. I think for a while and I realise why I want to fuck this girl.

She is so bashfully demure and feminine.

It doesn’t matter that she’s got a mouth full of steel, or a chubby arse, or slightly beady eyes. She smiles, she defers, she remembers stuff, she shakes it as she walks. In a City full of ball-busting lawyer cunts, she’s a breath of fresh air. I reckon she’d let me do her up the arse on the first asking. So today I make my first stab at gaming her proper

I catch her eye as I come in. She smiles, I do a “whassup” nod and wink. At the order counter, a dude takes the order while she stands by smiling.

Dude: Hi sir. May I take your order?

Krauser: Your colleague here can tell you. She’s got a good memory.

HB5 :  *enjoying the opportunity* He would like a [order] but with no mushrooms *smiles at me*

Krauser: Well done, but last time you left on in. *smirk* I was very disappointed with you. *sits down*

Dude brings me my food and I catch HB5 looking at me across the other diners. She walks all the way across to a nearby table to collect an empty Coke can. Proximity IOI, I think so. As she turns towards me I open:

Krauser: Do I look like a bear?

HB5: Wha…. excuse me? *gleaming smile – the braces not the tooth enamel*

Krauser: I want to look like a bear, so I’m growing a beard. I’m all furry now, see.

HB5: *laughs, glances back to the building queue, comes and stands next to me*

Krauser: I have a lot of meetings at work and I’ve noticed nobody in the City has a moustache. Look *gesture to other diners*. So I was in a meeting and I suddenly realised I had the best moustache in the room. No matter how I’m dressed or what I’m presenting, I know I’ll always have the best moustache.

HB5 *smiling, wondering what the hell I’m saying, ignoring her waitress duties*

Krauser: So I start thinking why not grow a beard. There’s too much professionalism around here. It needs more wildness. I want to be a bear. Rrrrrrrrrrrr!

HB5 *giggles, steps closer*

After that we just chat, with me doing a generic neg of her home country (“Oh you’re not one of those girls are you? I knew two girls from [country] and they were bitches. You seen nice though”) and asking bio info like I’m screening her, e.g:

Krauser: So what do you like about London?

HB5: Uh, I don’t know. It’s nice

Krauser: That’s not an answer. Are you a party girl, or a serious girl? Haha! Caught you! There was that flash in your eye, a sparkle, when I said party girl. You were thinking of your favourite nightclub weren’t you.

HB5 *yet more giggling* Yes, there’s a club I like (blah blah).

I didn’t want to go to far in the first interaction. Partly because she’ll always be there, and partly I still can’t quite shake the idea that I’m slumming it by even trying. It’s not like she’s “my 10”. She’s my HB5. But I just know that next time I knock one out, I’ll be thinking of her….. I’ve got a semi on just writing this.