Like a mysterious figure in some James Bond
novel he lurks in the shadows in a big
city pulling the brim of his hat tightly
over his brow
In the pouring rain he emerges from some dank
alley way black trench coat making him nearly
impervious to sight
He flicks the stub of a thin cigar onto the
shimmering wet sidewalk illuminated by the
nights city lights
He hails a taxi and disappears in the heart
of the city
In a penthouse with a view overlooking the city
she sprays a dab of perfume about her neck and
wrists
In the throes of nervous anticipation she paces
her lavish terrace staring intently at the city
lights below
A gust of wind mixed with rain lifts her transparent
evening wear exposing her modelesque shape
She reenters the plush carpeted penthouse and pours
herself a stiff drink
With every ping of the elevator she darts to the door
and keeping chain firmly in position she surveys every
male figure emerging into the hallway
She had never met this illusive stranger except in her
fantasies and day dreamed heavily upon the reputation
that preceded him
No one knew where he came from no more than they could
judge the wind
But the ladies about town had plenty of talk about him and the
sheer mystique merely fueled their passions to a fever pitch
Then suddenly.. a knock on the door and she cautiously parts
the door a few inches
'It must be him she thinks.!' He's not saying a word.'
It was said that if he spoke once that would be enough.'
'Who are you she asked? Are you the one I'm to see?'
'I mean.. she nervously quizzes. What is your name?
A long silence.
Then more silence.
Then came those trademark few words of his.
He said..
'I am the yummy man.'