…here the joke was on her… …or was it not…
He is wearing red wine in his hair, his face, all over his sports jacket and the off-white shirt.
I usually give my guests the check and the guest book at the same time. It’s a routine and that’s exactly what I do at table number four, with the happy couple in the corner.
There we have this doll, a small frame attractive fair-haired lady with blue green almond-shaped eyes with full lips framing sparkling white teeth of a sensual mouth. She has been replacing her lipstick every so often, throughout the meal. I can detect some of it on his shirt-collar. Her teeth are movie star perfect.
He is of stocky built, suntanned with wavy dark hair. He very well might be of Italian or Spanish background. I remember having waited on him before. He dines with us whenever he gets to Monterey on business, two or three times a year. The lady with him is new to me. I am certain that I have never seen her before. She is the type no man could easily forget. This lady is in her early thirties. She is a woman, who doesn’t need to wear nylons, with skin as smooth as silk. Her short miniskirt allows me to witness much of her legs’ beauty. She does in deed show much leg for a person of her size, not taller than 5’1″. She is not only beautiful to look at but also attentive to her man.
The two don’t drink much. As I put the check folder on the table, I notice they still have half a bottle of their red wine left. I take care of another table before going back to the couple where he hands me the check folder with his credit card. She is going through the guest book, page by page, fascinated by the many different guests’ remarks. And there are all kinds including the ones written in Japanese, Korean, German, French, Spanish, Italian, Russian, Thai and whatever language.
It takes some time to get an authorization on his credit card. I have to call it in over the phone. Starting with a busy signal till getting to talk to a life person, who gives me an approval code, the transaction takes nearly ten minutes. His name is Gary Greenwald of GG Incorporated. I bring the credit card slip back to him for his signature and think to myself, what a lovely couple. These two have been holding hands between the courses and kissed each other frequently. I mentioned to my coworkers if I ever get married I would like to find one like her, affectionate, great looking and loving. The fellow with her did introduce her as his wife. They certainly act very much like young puppies in love.
It isn’t two minutes later that the waitress who has the station next to me comes back to the kitchen, where I am waiting for food, to get me in a hurry. In the dining room I see the full length of the woman’s pretty legs and her skin-tight fitting white satin and lace panties. It’s the airflow which blows her short skirt up as she rushes to the door and out of the restaurant without saying good night. Her table partner is getting slowly up and stomps to the door leading to the bathroom. He is wearing red wine in his hair, his face, all over his sports jacket and the off-white shirt. I hear him slamming the bathroom door shut behind him. “What happened?” I ask my coworkers.
“She grabbed his glass and poured it in his face.” “She called him a bastard and an unfaithful s.o.b. . . . ” “She poured her own glass over him too.” “… before he knew what had was going on . . . , she left him in a pool of red-wine-stained self-pity.”
“So far for the attractive couple!” I say and take care of the food which I have to serve. It’s only at the end of the night that I get time to look through the guest book. I stop at the wet pages stained by red wine. Here I read in the upper part of the page, “The most orgiastic meal. Better than sex! Gary Greenwald GG Inc.” Right below his name someone wrote, “Diana Jones, PR GG Inc.” Under remarks she had scribbled “Food better than sex? Not with Gary – trust me!”
In the next line it reads “Dinner=Triples best, Sex=Gary best!”
(Naturally the names of the guests are changed)