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I met Margarite for the first time at the Millhop Bar and Restaurant. Millhop is located is Ocklawaha, Florida, a small town on the outskirts of Ocala. It wasn’t a very big place, mainly only locals frequented it. Every now and then a passerby going from Daytona to Ocala would stop in. There was not much to look at. The booths were red, the tabletops were beige, the floor was a white and gray marbled linoleum. The bar took up the back wall, where there was an open window to the kitchen. The stark white tiles reflected the overhead fluorescent lights. The walls of the bar where the same boring beige as the tabletops with the same fluorescent lighting as the kitchen. I was a waitress. She came in with a group of friends, all men. She sat by the window. One man sat on her left, and the other two sat across from her in the back booth. It was almost midnight when they strolled in. She was the leader of the group. You noticed her long before you noticed any of them. She had the classic beauty you only seen in the movies from the 40s and 50s. Her raven colored hair was pinned to her head in an up-do. Her sky blue eyes shone against her opaque skin dabbed with a little bit of pink blush. Her crimson colored lips stood out. When she talked that is all you paid attention to. She was stunning, and I could see why these men flocked to her. As I walked to their booth to take their orders, she locked eyes with me. She smiled as I approached. My green eyes never left hers.


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