Valentine's Dinner Conclusion

14 February 2012

Story #503

R. Linda:

While eating dinner, Patrick moved his chair a tad closer to Ms. Jaio, who didn't miss that manoeuvre. No, she was looking at him like -- in her words -- wat da fuk? He started talking to her! YES, he told her she had nice hair, to which Tonya was listening because she was sitting next to Patrick and shook her head at her dish like she couldn't believe what she had just heard, but she said nothing.

"I do?" Jaio asked in shocked surprise.

"Yeah, it is shiny and smooth. I like it; it becomes you." He said that loud enough for Maureen to hear, and that was what was going on. Yes, it was. I was like, "No, Patrick, do not do that to me, Charlotte." I mean, Ms. Jaio.

Meanwhile, Maureen was leaning over her dinner plate at Terry, looking into his baby blues like he was the end all, well, as much as an end all that a rough leprechaun can look.

"Ima not buyin dis," Weasil said to me giving me the elbow and a slight head toss toward Maureen.

"Me either. Both these two are being jerks." I whispered back, the clicking of the flatware masking our conversation.

"You should get contact lenses so people can see your eyes," Patrick said.

"Weally?" Ms. Jaio said, totally enraptured.

Maureen had got a drift of that and said to her rough leprechaun, "I wish I had eyes as blue as yers dere beautiful."

At which, Terry stopped eating and looked at her. "Ya do!" He said, and it was true she did have baby blues. And then he smelled the rat. He got it. He understood what she was doing. She was trying to make Patrick jealous because it seemed he had succeeded in making her that.

"Who are these people?" I said in a low tone to both Weasil and Tonya.

"Screw uppies." Weasil said; Tonya just shook her head like I dunno and then said, "So high school."

But it got worse because Patrick was in full flirt mode, and unfortunately for me intern, she was buying what he was selling. But Terry was not happy, because, after all, he was buying Maureen dinner, had stopped off at the petrol station convenience store and bought her a single red rose, a heart full of chocolates, and a Hallmark card that when you opened it sang, "You Are My Sunshine." She was doing a fabulous job of making it rain on Terry's parade. So, Terry did the only manly thing left to do; he accidentally, on purpose, dropped his napkin next to the back of Ms. Jaio's chair. At which she, having caught movement out of the corner of her eye, turned, and he, catching her glance, smiled like a demented monkey and asked her, "Could you please get that? It is closer to you." At which a dazzled Ms. Jaio leaned down and handed the man his napkin, but not before his hand slid over hers, and a look was passed from his face to hers on how desirable he thought she was.

OH MY GOD! May the saints preserve us all. This was terrible.

"He's a sleaze," Weasil said, not looking at me.

"Yeah," I whispered back, hardly believing what I was seeing.

But poor Ms. Jaio never had so much attention been paid to her by not one, but now two men, and she was a giggly mess.

"Oh God, what are you going to do with HER?" Tonya said to me. "It's obvious she doesn't know men are pigs."

"Why thank you for that, Tonya," I said, not quite knowing how to react.

Weasil leaned forward to take a look at Tonya, and he was freaking amused. But he was more amused when Terry decided to stare lovingly at the back of Ms. Jaio's head, and Maureen put her fingers in her water glass and then sprayed Terry, who looked startled and not very happy as he dabbed at his drippy face and shirt.

"Yup, like I say, high school all over again," Tonya said, sipping wine. "Well, Gabriel, this has got to be stopped. So do that."

"Me! How?" I squeaked. I didn't know what to do, I couldn't come out and say, "You, Patrick! And you, Maureen! And even you, Terry! Are trying to make each other jealous at our expense? Ms. Jaio and I won't have it." Now what? Well, Ms. Jaio's face would colour up like a beet, and they'd tell me I was being ridiculous or, worse, trying to start a brawl. Ugh! The wife spoke up while I was racking my brains on a solution.

"So Charlotte, what did Patrick give you for Valentine's Day?"

Oooh, I thought, "Ouch, Tonya." And it was because he didn't get her anything, and we all knew it. Or we thought we did, but I forgot he's Irish to the bone, and being that means he's also a romantic—a cheap one, but still.

"I got her this," he said, pulling out a small box of chocolates. I was freaking impressed he'd buy her SOMETHING. And she was bowled over. She dropped her fork, which sprang from the table into Amanda's orange sauce, which went all over Amanda and Weasil and flipped right into Maureen's silk-skirted lap. Yup, how to add insult to indignity. To make it worse, Amanda jumped up and started dabbing her sauce-soaked napkin in Maureen's water glass and wiping the sauce not off her skirt but putting more on with a bit of water, which was further ruining it.

"Stop, stop, stop!" Maureen was trying to wrestle Amanda back, but Amanda felt at fault; it was her orange sauce, and she forgot the fact that it wasn't her fork. Well, this brought the wait staff running over to help. Oi! So, for a good five minutes, Maureen was the focus of the entire establishment. Amanda had sat back down, so it looked (if you hadn't seen the flying fork) like Maureen dumped food all over herself, further embarrassing herself in front of the entire restaurant!

"Wot kin ya do," Weasil muttered and kept eating as Amanda administered the clean napkin Tonya had given her to her wonderful husband's sauce-covered countenance. Once all the dabbing in water glasses and saucy faces was over, Amanda whispered to Maureen to send her the cleaning bill. Yikes, these people!

"Can we just eat and enjoy the rest of dinner? No harm, no foul," I said, addressing everyone.

"Garsoni!" Weasil raised his voice and snapped his fingers at the wine steward passing us. "Git me a bottle of Dom and bring glasses fer dis table and dat one," he pointed at Maureen and Terry. The man hurried off; well, of course he would. Blotting his lips, Weasil turned to the kiddie table and said, "My treat fer spoilin' yer romantic din-din." Then he turned to us and said, "Enuff of dis stuffins goin' on." Everyone at both tables looked guilty, but that didn't last. The champagne came, Weasil approved the taste, it was poured, and all was well, if not a little uncomfortable.

Somehow, we managed through dessert and coffee. We did not opt for after-dinner drinks because everyone really wanted it to end. And it came to a rather unexpected ending. As the bill was delivered, Mr. Weasil took it, stood up, and said to us and the kiddie table, "Since you all been good sporties I be footen da bill since dis was me idea, Happy Valentine's Day." And as he sat down, everyone within earshot at the other tables applauded his arse for being so generous.

"Welly, I hope dey dunt think Ima payin' fer dem too," he sneered.

That gesture took the pressure off yours truly it did. But I still felt terrible about the whole thing.

As we got outside, the Weasils were still inside, settling the tab, and I was wondering what to do about Ms. Jaio, who was looking at Patrick with stars in her eyes. But I needn't have worried; Patrick shook Ms. Jaio's hand and thanked her for a lovely evening. He told her to keep the candy, and with that, he turned on his heel and headed off. Ms. Jaio stood there looking disappointed, I thought, until she turned to us as we walked out of sight of Maureen and said with relief in her voice, "Wowey not wanna be seen wit tull Patick, look leak shot and tull, look leak cirus cum ta town, peeple laugh an weally he, not mi type. He stoopid make Moween mad an he tol me ta pay along. Wo duz dat?"

Oi, oi, oi! Patrick, really? She played the part well, but she made me promise never to do that again and to please keep any contact with Patrick to no contact where she was concerned.

"Besides he being too tall and a player, what else didn't you like about him?" Tonya asked.
  
"I wan Chinese, not tull lanky Iwish. Shot guy, ya no?" Ms. Jaio said, adding, "An no moah Cha lotte!"

I promised to behave, and I did, but I was pleased she was such a sport about this disaster of an evening.

Tonya and I took Ms. Jaio back to the parking garage and made sure she got off all right. The Weasils were taking a leisurely stroll to their hotel to "walkie-offie dinner." The kiddie table stayed to either rip us apart or rip each other apart since things were icy when we left them.

The drive home was good, not as silent as I initially thought it might be; no, Tonya sat next to me, head on me shoulder, and we hashed over dinner. There was so much to talk about. We both praised that weaselly rascal until we realised he also had a hand in it. Then I told her that I was not sure this night would go as well as it did, well, not that it went well, but I wanted her to have her special day, so I had booked reservations for us on Friday. She was genuinely touched she was. I guess I come off as thoughtless a lot huh?

Gabe
Copyright © 2012 All rights reserved