Starter,Main Course and Intercourse

By Harold Lawrence

The waiter sensed he was no longer alone. He looked up from his newspaper, inspected the intruders with a jaundiced eye and with an exaggerated effort raised himself from his bar stool. Framed by the door, stood a short, middle-aged fellow, wearing a 1970's 'tightly-belted', mackintosh, accompanied by a much younger woman, with long bottle-blonde hair, wearing a mock-leather jacket, white stilettos and carrying the accessory mock- leather, white handbag. She was holding tightly on to her partner's arm as though attempting a citizen's arrest.

The waiter, stifling a yawn, confronted them. "Sir, Madam?"

"A table for two, waiter, if you please'

The Waiter surveyed his empty establishment. I think I have a table free over here, gesturing to a table next to the window.

" I don't think so" retorted the man in a voice as diminutive as his physique, " we would prefer somewhere a little more discreet."

The Waiter sighed. "It looks as if we've got one in the corner that is still free, I'll light the candle. Be careful to keep it away from the flower display, it's liable to melt it."

They settled, and the Waiter produced two large menus for them to peruse. They sat in silence as they concentrated on the selection of meals. After five minutes of study, the Waiter's patience was obviously exhausted. "May I take your order, Sir and Madam? The Chef will be closing the kitchen in an hour" His sarcasm was lost on the couple, but it did galvanise them in to communication.

" Would you like a 'Starter', sweetie" said the man, assuming an air of sophistication, " you can have whatever you want, don't worry about the cost."
" Oh, I don't know - it's all very posh, what are you going to have, Bobokins?"
" Prawn Cocktail."
" Then, I'll have Prawn Cocktail too. That sounds nice"

The waiter carefully wrote on his pad. 'Sweetie and Bobokins' - 2 prawn cocktails. The half -smile on his face betrayed not a hint of the suppressed chuckle that his self-styled wit had induced.

" What would you like for your Main Course, my sweet?" the little man persisted, " Have whatever you like, I don't think it will do any harm to your perfect little figure." He gave her a look reminiscent of a cheeky schoolboy caught with his hand in the biscuit barrel.

" Ooooh, you naughty boy, Bobo, what ever next?" She looked again at the Menu.
" Oh, I don't know .....What are you going to have, lover?"

"Rump Steak, medium rare, chips and an egg" he replied like a man who knows what he likes.

" Then, I shall too! That sounds nice"
The Waiter wrote on his pad. Two steaks and chips with eggs. One Viagra tablet. Again, the inscrutability of his features gave not a hint to the unbridled mirth that he was aching to share with the world.

"Would you care to accompany your red meat with an amusing bottle of vin rouge, Sir?" he asked.

" Would you like some red wine,my love?" asked the little man, as if she required an interpreter.

" Oooh, that sounds nice" she giggled " you promise not to take advantage of me if I get squiffy!"

"I would like a bottle of your finest House Vin de Pays, please Waiter"

On the bottom of his pad the Waiter wrote : P.S. One bottle of Rough for a bit of...............

He left them staring at each other over the flickering candle and the melting flower arrangement, there conversation exhausted.