After finishing breakfast, Jessica left for work, kissing me on the forehead goodbye and promising to call or stop by in the next two or three days.
"What are we doing today, Host?" the symbiote asked as soon as I closed the door behind my sister. Good question. I'd like to meet Alicia or Lisa, but the security guard has a shift tomorrow, if I remember correctly, and showing up from my apartment, tired and sleep-deprived, is practically the same as officially announcing our relationship. Which in this world practically means a quick wedding; girls here aren't used to waiting years for their chosen one to deign to propose.
They're more likely to propose. With a ring and kneeling, everything. And probably in plain sight, too, and if I refused them, it could even lead to the rejected one committing suicide. There have been cases. Of course, this only applies to girls who've been dating for a while. Proposing marriage to every single person I met just wasn't going to work. What about Alicia? If my sister was telling the truth, and she had no reason to lie, then she'd practically been living at work these last few days, too.
So, over the next few days, she'll be clearing out the backlog of work and getting herself in order. So, as I'd planned before Jessica suddenly showed up, I could go out into the city later tonight and practice my abilities, but first, I could just go for a walk. Everything was already done in the apartment anyway. After voicing my plans to the symbiote and receiving silent approval, I began getting ready for my walk.
***
This time I wanted to avoid adventure, so I stayed within my neighborhood, using skyscrapers as my guide; as soon as they dwindled in size, I turned back. I simply wandered aimlessly around the city, examining and memorizing the surrounding buildings. I popped into various shops, often just to browse.
I bought some chocolate (I couldn't live without it these days). I resisted the urge to buy realistic figurines of local superheroines or magazines where they wore minimal clothing. Incidentally, the cover of the latest June issue featured the Iron Lady in one of her costumes. I guess. If you can call a steel bikini and bra a costume.
The sun was already beginning to set, signaling the approaching evening, which meant it was time for me to return home and get ready for a night out. I didn't have any more "adventures." At least it was some variety. But before heading home, we decided to stop by a cozy café we'd found for a bite to eat (I didn't need a break). A pretty waitress went out of her way to serve me—and to make sure I got a bigger portion.
She stood up and bent over so I could get a better look at her figure, and she practically pressed herself against me as she recommended something from the menu, which the other two waitresses eyed with envy; it must have been her table.
I was just finishing my salad when the bell on the front door rang melodically, announcing new guests. I was sitting with my back to the door and couldn't see the newcomers, but all those surprised glances from the customers and staff, directed at the new arrivals, didn't bode well, and the words spoken by one of them made me curse inwardly: "Look, I told you about this cafe, I've known it since the thirties, and the coffee, cheesecake, and tiramisu here are some of the best in all of Manhattan," the voice was surprisingly soft and gentle.
"Or they were back then."
"Oh, if only you could eat something sweet, Steph," the voice of another woman, quite commanding and feminine, answered her, "you'll gain weight in no time. How will you find a normal man then?"
"Oh, come on, Anita," Stefania snorted, "I, unlike you, can't gain weight." You need to eat as little pastry as possible, otherwise one day you won't fit into any of your costumes," the men said, walking inside and sitting at a free table right behind me. Now that's just too much! Whoever said coincidences aren't coincidences was talking about me personally?
How could I just meet some of the most famous superheroines not just in New York, but in the entire US? Just by walking into one of the city's many cafes, in one of its many neighborhoods. Even if Captain America had once been a regular here, as I gathered from her words. "Will someone finally come over?" Stark asked loudly when none of the waitresses rushed to take their orders; apparently, no one had yet recovered from the mild shock. "Y-yes! Of course!""My waitress squeaked in fear and approached them on shaky legs. "You don't have to be so afraid of us," Stark giggled, "we won't bite you, unless you ask us to, of course."
Oh, she shouldn't have said that. The girl, who was already slightly frightened, began to stutter. "Well, that's always you," the other superheroine hissed at her friend, "not everyone is as depraved as you!" "Ha-ha-ha! Don't be a bore! It's so funny to embarrass people. Try it sometime." I still glanced back at them. And I must say, the superheroines looked quite impressive, and my imagination, due to the photo sessions I'd seen with them before, began to paint some very explicit pictures.
"Good couples for procreation," the First One said without hesitation.
"Even if they're weaker than us." Stefania Rogers, aka Captain America, was wearing a tight top that stopped a couple of inches short of her navel and short shorts. It was all in military-style print. She wore some combination of sandals and shoes. Her luxurious blonde hair hung loose. Anita Stark, aka Iron Lady, wore a semblance of a jacket and blouse, but with short sleeves that also revealed her midriff, a short skirt, and simple black shoes, but with fairly high heels. Her black hair was also hanging loose.
A predatory smile played across Anita's face, while her friend's expression expressed some resentment at her words. Both women were very beautiful. Noticing my gaze, Stark looked me over emotionlessly and returned to her conversation with her friend and the waitress. I continued my lunch, turning away from them.
Soon, the quiet meal in the cafe seemed to transform into the center of the city—so noisy and crowded had it become. The fear of the superheroines quickly passed, and the waitresses vied with each other to serve them, almost forgetting about the other customers.
But they weren't too upset. They approached the superheroines, expressed their admiration for them, asked for autographs or to take photos with them. The entire staff began doing the same, even the cooks left the kitchen.
Remarkably, the women didn't refuse anyone at first, but then, apparently someone posted on social media about famous superheroines just sitting in the cafe, and the crowd began to arrive. Women and girls asked for advice on their appearance and relationships with men, to which Stefania blushed, and Anita was quite willing to share her thoughts.
The men (there were as many as ten of them besides me!), without exception, spoke condescendingly to them and allowed them to treat themselves. I'll definitely never get used to the mentality of this world. And, without exception, they all asked for autographs and photos with them. The owner of this establishment was incredibly lucky; a chance visit from these two superheroines boosted the place's profile for months to come.
When the cafe became really crowded and noisy, people even started gathering outside the entrance, and the First even suggested killing a few people to make it quieter. I understood her; all the noise gave me a terrible headache. I paid the bill by simply throwing the required amount on the table, because the waitresses were nowhere to be found.
And even if I had managed to attract their attention, they would have spent several minutes pushing their way to my table, and then, barely squeezing their way out, they would have gone home. How do they tolerate this? And I bet it happens to them all the time! The downside of popularity.