It turned her on, but still, for months, not a thing happened.Not a thing happened, that is, until one night she called me to tell me that she had to work late, on a Friday evening, the night that we had planned to go out to our favorite restaurant and listen to one of our favorite bands. She told me that she had brought a change of clothes so I shouldn't worry, and that she would meet me at the restaurant at the "usual time". At "the usual time" let me know that nothing was going on, so I left work and went to the restaurant and grabbed a table in the corner where we usually sit. It was then that I checked my text messages and she had sent a text telling me that she was bringing a guy from work with her; a guy who was interested in hearing this band. When they arrived my wife was wearing one of my of her dresses: Thin straps, low cut (not allowing a bra) but long and flowing. I met the guy, her boss, and he seemed nice enough and we had dinner and listened to the band while making. ‘I hate to go back out there,’ one of them said to me, shivering in her heavy coat. ‘Seems like winter will never end.’ ‘Two more months of it,’ her friend said. ‘You two ladies have a great day. Stay warm,’ I said, watching them shuffle out of the restaurant. I lingered behind the counter and shot furtive glances at my only customer. His paper napkin was smoothed over his lap, and he took careful bites of the sandwich. I felt a twinge in my chest, I hated to see someone eating alone. Sure, some people preferred to eat by themselves, but it made me sad just the same. I ambled over to the table the two ladies had left and began clearing it. ‘I haven’t seen you in here before,’ I said to the man, trying to keep my voice casual. He turned to face me, as though surprised I’d spoken. ‘I grew up near here, but I haven’t been back in years. I live in Springfield now.’ ‘Oh? What brings you back this way?’ I didn’t make a habit of engaging in personal conversations with customers I didn’t.
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