It is one of those trendy places where a green tea will set you back about 7 pounds, presumably because they chant or say prayers over it while it’s brewing. Or something.
The waitress is staring at the lawyer, she obviously likes what she sees. I try not to show my irritation at how blatant she is but when she quickly glances at me, I can tell she’s trying to ascertain whether we’re “together” or not.
It wakes the petty demon inside me. I lean across the table and rake my fingers through his hair.
“What happened to you this morning? Slept through your alarm, did you?”
He looks confused and I can’t blame him, his hair is looking perfectly fine.
However, before I have time to take my hand back, he grabs it and slowly kisses the inside of my wrist. He couldn’t have done better if he’d been a knowing and willing participant in this pathetic mini-play of mine. Now I feel small, and guilty—while out of the corner of my eye I see the waitress slink away—she’s definitely enlightened.
My wrist is feeling tingly…and it’s quickly spreading to the rest of me. I have a sudden urge to jump across the table and mount him right there and then.
I guess some of that (or all of it) must show on my face because he says:
“Let’s get out of here.”
“What? But, we just ordered drinks…”
“Fuck the drinks!” he replies.
I barely have time to grab my bag and coat before I’m led away from this ridiculous hipster place. Looks like I won’t get to sample their magical green tea after all. And I don’t feel sorry one bit—there is nothing like a little spontaneity.