Friday, June 6, 2008

Well Well

So here I am trying to get ready, I've got a date to go to, for the first time in months,  and DC is calling, really great timing on his behalf.    My son is calling me to the house phone when I refuse to answer my hand phone, and I'm thinking, well it just has to be today innit?
I make it to the restaurant (just about after clunking down the phone and giving the F1 a run for their money) We had agreed on meeting somewhere we both knew, and could have drinks at upstairs later on. I walk in to the restaurant downstairs and my date's not there, the waiter gets me a table close to the huge french windows that looks out into the street which is humming with life.  I order myself a glass of red and look around.
Two minutes later, the waiter shows a family of three to the table in front of me, a western man, his oriental wife (well I presume she's his wife) and their cute child, mixes always make  very cute kids.   I'm thinking to myself, *perfect, a family next to me on my first date*  .   The father/husband whom I shall call Mr.A looks up and stares at me, I ignore it, this is a common occurrence, and not something I particularly enjoy.  Then Mrs. A looks and stares at me, as she's seen Mr A looking at me.  I manage a good impersonation of Marlene Dietrich and light up a cig.  As I look around the cute kid is now looking at me, I catch her eye and give her a *big eyes* look, she gives me half a smile, smart kid. 
It's now half an hour past the time we were supposed to meet and Pierre has not turned up, so I text him and ask him if he's on the way (I don' t usually wait around like a lemon for any date).  He texts back and says he is.   My girlfriend Nina is texting me to see how things are, I told her he's late, she calls back and says he's a "far-ked".  Yeah well I told her I'd finish my glass of wine and if he didn't turn up by then I'd leave.
 Mr A. is still looking over and staring at me, and every time he does, Mrs A rubbernecks around... ggeezzz.  their food arrives, they've ordered a pizza to share to begin with, and as they tuck in, my jaw drops, Mrs A, has taken her shoes off and is now sitting cross legged on her chair eating her pizza, I mean it's bad enough that the waiters have let them in with Mr A wearing shorts and Mrs A in cut off jeans, but sitting crossed legged  on your chair in a restaurant ... So when Mr A stares at me again, I just give him a very cutting look, which says many many things but probably is not getting across as he's probably the type who thinks with a different head if you get what I mean.  I mentally make an effort to not be judgemental and check my phone.
Pierre walks in and apologises  as kisses me on both cheeks (on my face in case all your minds have fallen into the gutter) He says he's sorry he's 15 minutes late, I look at him and say '15 minutes.. what time did you think we were supposed to meet?'  He looks at me, his watch and his phone and says 'um 8.30?'   I sigh. 'actually we said 8 pm , Pierre, I've been here for 45 minutes, and was about to leave once I'd finished my drink, I don't wait around in case you were wondering"  His face goes pale for an instant, I can tell he's flustered, so he looks at me and smiles and says 'I'm so sorry Cheri, I honestly thought it was 8.30pm, I guess I'm going to be in the same ranks as Mr Retro for this mistake!'  I smile at him, he's so sincere, you can tell he feels bad. 
Now all this time I can feel two pairs of eyes on us, I clocked the look Mr A gave when he saw Pierre walking towards me and then when he sat down, and I'm not surprised, Pierre is a tall, well built black man ( I cannot say African American as his blood lines include French, Spanish and Lebanese blood!) once Pierre and I were conversing I looked over my shoulder, Mrs A had her feet back in her shoes on the floor and Mr A. wasn't craning over anymore.  He He He the colour distinction always amuses me.
Pierre orders a lovely bottle of Pinot Noir and the evening goes really well, he pays the bill when we're done and we head upstairs to the bar for a drink.  The DJ who's spinning on the night recognises me and immediately comes over to greet us, as soon as the DJ meets us, I start hissing through my teeth "stop telling him about my DJ ing days"! Pierre is looking at me in amusement.  It's retro night and MR DJ is playing all the songs we both know and love.  By the end of the night, even the bartenders are having fun and are passing us shots on the house!  
Pierre walks me to my car, he's leaving the next day for a 10 day business trip.  It was a great night and I left it at that.  Cest la vie! Dx  

1 comment:

mrana said...

Am still laughing ... :D