Jenny O'Connor wiped down the counter at the Fil-R-Up Diner, making a disgruntled face as she done so. Today hadn't been turning out too well. First, she had been late to work and her boss, Patsy, had yelled at her. She had encountered at least half a dozen advances by childish and immature college Freshmen, and to top it all off, she only received about a quarter in tips. She hoped this day improved soon, or she would be tempted to fake a Migraine headache and request an early leave. She had no sooner than thought this, when her favorite customer came walking into the diner. His name was Mike. He was a tall, skinny fellow with big brown eyes and a thick head of dark brown hair, some of it nearly sweeping across his brow. Most of his gorgeous locks were kept at bay by an emerald green wool hat he always seemed to wear. Jenny knew it wasn't professional to stare at the customers, but there was something about this Mike that she couldn't seem to get enough of. Maybe it was his voice, with that sexy southern drawl he had, or maybe it was his smile. Who knew? Maybe she just liked the idea that he was a decent tipper.

"Hello Jenny," Mike said, taking a seat at the counter, "how have things been today?" He absent-mindedly looked at the menu. Sometimes Mike had trouble with eye contact. Despite being a performer, he could be rather shy and distant at times.

"Ok, I guess. How have you been?" Jenny asked, then pulled her order pad and pen out, "Let me guess. You're having your usual: egg salad sandwich, hold the pickle, extra side of chips, slice of pecan pie with black coffee," Mike smiled at her, very impressed that she had every detail down to a tee.

"Well, I think you're getting to know me better than I know myself," he drawled. Jenny's heart fluttered as he spoke. Why did he have to do that to her?

"I'll get this order in right away," Jenny said, placing his ticket on the little spindle in the kitchen window, "One Nesmith special!" She hollered back. She then grabbed the coffee pot and began to pour Mike a cup of the steaming liquid. He breathed in the rich aroma and sighed.

"So, how are things over at the record store? Any good sales going on? Anything new come out?" Jenny inquired, trying to make small talk. Mike had been working at the record shop down the block for a few months now. It was only part-time to bring in some extra income. His main career was being member/manager of his singing group, The Monkees. Jenny had never heard them play, but she had always told herself that the next time they were going to be at the Vincent Van Go-Go, she would be there to hear them.

"Well, " Mike said, as he sipped the hot beverage, " nothing new has come out yet, but we are having a two for one sale on Polka records." Jenny laughed and wrinkled her nose.

"No thanks, " she said, "I think I'll pass." Jenny's smile always seemed to be the highlight of Mike's day. To be honest, the food a Fil-R-Up was mediocre, at best. No, the reason Mike kept coming back was to see that ray of sunshine standing behind the counter. Jenny was tall and thin. She had long blonde hair that was pulled back in a ponytail. Her bangs were slightly curled underneath and just barely touched her brow. She had shiny, deep blue eyes, that almost seemed to twinkle when she laughed. He knew Jenny was about his age, but other than knowing she was a waitress, he didn't know much about her.

"Order up," Jenny said, laying a plate before Mike, "bon appetite." Mike thanked her for the food and went about eating his lunch. Mike watched, as Jenny tended to other customers. She was polite and professional to them all, but she never flashed them the huge grin that she always seemed to have for him. When she brought the check, he was going to ask her. Definitely was the day he was going to ask her to keep company with him. If he didn't do it today, he might just lose his nerve all together. The minutes drug by, as Jenny waited on one customer after another. She stopped in front of him briefly to top off his mug with more hot coffee, and gave a cheery, "I'll check back with you in a few, Sugar." Now Mike knew his nickname, Sugar, was just some diner slang that waitresses had probably been taught to use in order to make their customers feel special and welcomed. Mike had heard terms like "Doll", "Honey", and even "Sweetie" uttered by Jenny, as well as other waitresses there. However, Jenny always, without fail, sometime during his visit would call him "Sugar" and she had never used any other name for him, except his given one. A good twenty minutes had gone by and Jenny came with the check. It was now or never for Mike.

"Hey Sugar, was everything good as usual?" She had asked.

"Fine, just fine," he said, laying down a couple of dollars. He then leaned in and whispered to her so no one could hear, "I don't want to come off as some sort of freak, but I was wondering, well... I have the rest of the afternoon off... would you want to go for a ride with me?" Mike had asked. Jenny was stunned, she couldn't believe her ears.

Would I go for a ride with him? You bet I would! This is just the excuse I needed to get me out of this hole today.

"Well, I have four hours left in my shift," she began, Mike looked disappointed, "but I'll tell you what I'm going to do. You see, I'm suddenly going to get a Migraine... you catch my drift?" Mike nodded. He couldn't believe she was actually going with him.

Jenny made her way back to the kitchen, where the boss was counting how many cans of succotash they had left. Jenny forced a look of discomfort, held her head and began to moan. Patsy turned around to see who had come to bother her.

"What do you want, Jenny? I'm very busy with the inventory," Patsy said, shaking her pencil at her. "Now spit it out and get back to those customers." Jenny groaned once again.

"Patsy, I've got one of my migraines. It's real bad. I think I need to go home," Jenny whined. Patsy looked at her unsympathetically.

"Well, you looked fine earlier. Take an aspirin and get back at it," Patsy said, returning to her work. Jenny made a guttural ganging noise and placed a hand over her mouth.

"Please, the smell of food makes it worse," she said through her hand and making a coughing noise. Fearful that Patsy would have a mess on her hands any second, she yelled. "Go, go! Get out of here before you ruin everyone's appetite!"

"Thank you, " she said weakly. Once out of the kitchen, the smile returned to her face. She threw her apron and hat behind the counter and told Mike, "Come on Sugar, let's get the heck out of here."

...

Once outside, they were greeted by the warmth of the California sunshine. Mike led her to a red convertible, that had the band's logo painted on the side. He told her it was called The Monkeemobile. Jenny giggled at this, as Mike opened the door for her to get in. He went around to the other side and stuck the key into the ignition. The engine roared to life. He turned to her and said, "There are only two rules in this car, !. The top stays down on nice days, no exception. 2. Kick back and enjoy yourself." Those were rules Jenny could live by.

Mike waited for the oncoming traffic to go by, then he careful pulled out onto the road. He headed in the direction of the Freeway, and once he got onto the exit, he clicked the radio on, turning it up to the point where it was slightly loud. The Byrds song "Turn, Turn, Turn" was playing, and he and Jenny immediately began to sing along to it.

"To everything, turn, turn, turn. There is a season, turn, turn, turn, and a time to every purpose under Heaven," they sang as their voices blended. Jenny had a lovely Mezzo-Soprano voice. it matched well with Mike's Baritone voice.

"Hey, you got a nice set of pipes on you, girlie," Mike had commented.

"Oh thank you, Sugar," Jenny replied.

"You know, you don't have to call me Sugar. We're not at the diner anymore," he said.

"I like calling you Sugar. It's because I think you are sweet," Jenny admitted to him, giving him a look of tenderness.

"Oh," Mike said, undoing his top shirt button and grabbing at the collar. Suddenly it had begun to feel very warm indeed.