Dinner For Two With Drama
Copyright 2011 Douglas T. Vale
Cover image courtesy of Zolwiks / StockFreeImages.com
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Don sat at the table across from Elizabeth and fiddled with the folded hand-towel in his pants pocket. A second set of clothes sat ready in his car trunk as another precaution. Don excited certain messy passions in people, and he had learned to go out prepared. Don would have preferred to stay home, but Elizabeth insisted.
“You’re a nervous wreck,” Elizabeth said. “Do you think I’m going to order the most expensive thing on the menu? Don’t wonder. I will.” She smoothed her black dress against her sleek body.
“It’s not that,” Don said.
“What, then? Are people taking pictures of me again? They’re always so obnoxious—”
“Uh, no, not that either,” Don glanced around.
“What is it, then?”
“I have bad experiences in restaurants, and most public places really.” Don watched the wait-staff shuttle from table to table and then back into the kitchen. Most tables were occupied by chattering diners sipping wine and nibbling appetizers. Soft violins and a piano struggled to be heard over the clatter of glasses and silverware, and the buzz of voices.