She leaned over Tom's left shoulder and set down the whole traywithout spilling a drop from any of the glasses. Before she stood up,she glanced at Douglas, who was right across from Tom, and caughthim looking down the neck of her dress. Almost immediately he lookedaway; she didn't know whether he knew she saw him looking or not.
My boobs may have sagged a little, Minnie, but I still got enougharchitecture to make the tourists take a second glance.
There were other customers, but while she was dropping off theirorders she kept an eye on the Boys' Table. Tom had been creative,after all -- he had packets of Kool-Aid in his suitcoat pocket, and hemade quite a ritual of opening them and putting a little of every flavorin each glass. They foamed a lot when he stirred them, and they allended up a sickly brownish color.
She heard the mechanic say, "Why didn't you just puke in theglasses to start with and avoid the middleman?"
"Drink, my beloved newts and emus, drink!" cried Tom.
They passed out the glasses and prepared to drink.
"A toast!" cried Douglas, and he rose to his feet. Everybody inthe cafe was watching, of course -- how often does somebody proposea toast at noon in a smalltown cafe? -- but Rainie kept right onworking, laying down plates in front of people.
"To the human species!" said Douglas. "And to all the people init, a toast!"
"Hear hear!"
"And to all the people who only wish they were in it, I promisethat when I am supreme god, you will all be human at last!"
"In a pig's eye!" shouted the mechanic joyously.
"I'll drink to that!" cried Tom, and with that they all drank.