A Luncheon Study

Early for lunch, so decide to do some people watching while I wait for my friend. Wouldn’t you know it? As soon as I settle in, the surrounding tables clear out. Do you think they read my mind?

One large family group after another rolls past the hostess’ desk. It’s that kind of place. It’s that kind of week. Wait staff running from table to kitchen to bar and back to table, their bodies and eyes tense and focused. The place is hoppin’.

I see a woman who looks very much like a childhood friend. Did I get a card from her this year? Yes. They took a trip to Italy last summer. Her eldest graduated college.

An 0lder man and his wife walk past. He leans in to me, smiles and says, “nice to see someone still uses a pen and paper.”

My friend text’d. Flat tire. I call her, “No worries. Another time.”

I order lunch. Fettuccine. And a glass of wine. What the heck. My waiter brings me a complimentary shortbread cookie dipped in hot fudge with my check. “Sorry your friend didn’t make it,” he says.

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