Cafe negligée


It must be every man’s dream. Roll out of bed, get your wits about ya, scratch and whatever else you do, and head to the kitchen for some hea…

COFFEE!

Unfortunately, in this imperfect world, the fantasy requires getting into your neon long-sleeve work shirt, or your Reyn Spooner reverse aloha shirt, and tooling on over to the skank cafe truck where coffee is served by beautiful women in negligées and not much more. I hear the little tap pants and g-strings don’t hide much, nor do the lacy teddies.

Do they conceal anything? Like, oh, I dunno, low self esteem? Or are these beautiful 20-somethings so luscious and hot that we’re certain that someone will discover them for a movie career or a spread in a pinup magazine? Maybe the pay is so great, they’re doing it to cover the expense of the weekend MBA program.

In all seriousness, I’d really like to know: Would you want your girlfriend steaming up the skim milk foam in a little demi bra in a roach coach on Kapiolani Boulevard? How about your best friend’s kid sister? How about your sister, auntie or cousin? Would you date a woman who works in a coffee truck at Campbell Industrial Park? Would you kiss her good bye each morning as she heads on over to punch in and tamp coffee grinds while wearing just a wife beater?

I guess this is all along the lines of topless car washes, Hooters chicks and pole dancers. All of them probably have to be beautiful, and they might make some good money at it. Unfortunately, the fabric of life includes all of our decisions, including those we’re not so proud of.

I doubt this particular job makes it onto any of these girls’ résumés. Can we have an intervention?