Lovers are very special people. They’re the luckiest people in the world. Love is a beautiful, wonderful, splendid thing, we all know that. If you are lucky enough to have found it, then please accept my sincere and heartfelt congratulations from the very bottom of my heart. However, I don’t want to see you tonsil diving with your lady lover while I am trying to take your order for calamari.
Two true romancers sat in my station last week and they couldn’t keep their hands off of each other. It was obvious they were on a date in the beginnings of their relationship. At first I thought maybe it was first date because of the small talk I picked up while polishing silver next to their table. “So where did you grow up?” and “What do you do?” tells me they were trying to get to know each other. If it was a first date, then they must have met on pickaslut.com because she was all over him. After I cleared their plates, they put their elbows on the table and stared at each other. He looked into her eyes like they were pools of Nutella and he couldn’t wait to stick his banana in them. I watched as she put both of her hands on his face and rub it back and forth. I wondered if she knew that is not how you make a guy orgasm. Then he put his hands under the table and rested them on her knees. That old trick? Please. He did it like it was just a casual place to put his hands and they just happened to be a few inches from her Lady Bug. He knew he was in like Flynn when she put her hands on top of his and moved them closer to the Golden Ticket. Everyone in my station muttered a big “get a fucking room” as she laughed at one of his jokes and tossed her hair back. It’s like they both took Flirting 101 at the Learning Annex and this was their final exam. Just go down on each other already.
I wasn’t surprised they didn’t want any dessert because everyone in that restaurant knew what was for dessert and it wasn’t going to be a Vanilla Beam Creme Brulee, that’s for sure. I printed out their check and the total was $68.59, which when rounded up is a the number of love. How appropriate for this couple who were sexually assaulting each other in public. They threw money down and left in a flash, presumably to one of their apartments, the La Quinta down the street, or the bed bug infested mattress that was wrapped in plastic and discarded across the street. I have a feeling they were not choosy. Or picky. What is the word I am looking for to describe these two…horny, that’s it.
I carefully approached their table to clear it, making sure there were no errant bodily fluids that may have prematurely made an appearance. Everything seemed fine. About fifteen minutes later, the restaurant shook when a loud boom of thunder and lightening shot across the sky. Or a least, we assumed it was thunder and lightening. It’s possible that our lovebirds finally made the ultimate connection that they had started at the most romantic place on earth: table 11.