She catches my eye before she even gets in line. Not just for how cute she looks with those big red curls framing her face, but the intensity in her brown eyes when she looks at me and the way they dart away when she realizes I’m looking. She looks uncertain and I’m amazed that a woman this beautiful isn’t radiating effortless confidence. I try to guess what her order will be but I can’t pin it down. From her luscious curves, I doubt she’s one of those girls who eats like a bird, pecking and never really experiencing the joy of good food. When it’s finally her turn, she steps up, a blush tinting her cheeks and I know I have to get to know her. When she agrees to allow me to surprise her, I know I’m right. She sees food as an opportunity for an adventure—my kind of girl. She takes the wrap and I’m glad when she sits on the bench nearest to the truck. The line has dwindled as dusk approaches and I allow my sous chef to take care of the remaining customers while I step into the recesses of the truck to watch her. If that sounds a little pervy—I don’t give a fuck! I like what I like and this beauty with the big curls and soft curves does it for me. I can’t tear my gaze away as she eats. There’s something about how she savors each bite, eyes fluttering closed in delight that stirs a heat within me. I feel myself harden as I watch the woman whose eyes are still closed in unabashed enjoyment and I reach outside to flip the sign on the truck. ‘Closed’.