The waiting area was crowded, I was trying to check in with the Maitre’ D. Mom was behind some tall asshole.
“Yes,” Fritz was saying to me. “But you see, sir, we are very busy tonight and we can’t hold tables all night…”
Tall guy moved away and Mom came into view and held my arm, and smiled her award winning smile at old Fritz. Really, she did win an award in 8th grade for best smile. We only tell the truth… ok I’ll shut up.
“… but… you are in luck as a table by the window just opened up. This way, please?”
Mom made sure to brush her breast against Fritz a little, and complimented him on his tie. I tried to tip him $50, he refused. No, no money! Not for such a beauty as this! You need your money young man!
The waiter came up right away.
“Good evening folks! Welcome to Fleming’s! And, may I just say that your mother looks stunning tonight on this Mother’s Day weekend…” He smiled, all pleased with himself.
I spoke very slowly, and very quietly, but with passion.
“This… isn’t… my… mother… you insolent, arrogant, insulting fool!”
Mom did a face palm.
“Now look what you’ve done, you’ve embarrassed her! Fritz!” I stood up to get Fritz and a ruckus ensued. Could I describe the ruckus? Not really. Just a bunch of staff rushing around, apologizing, bringing a champagne bucket with Fritz’ compliments, a pate’ that was obviously on it’s way to another table, and various breads and rolls, and what else can we get for you? We got a new waiter, too. She was much better and kept her damn mouth shut. The other guy was moved across the room so we didn’t have to see him. They assured us of that. We finally placed our orders and they left us alone.
“Who knew you were such a little shit?” Mom asked. But she was laughing, also.
“Hey, I learned from the best.”
“Well,” she continued. “If I’m not your mother, then maybe we should sit a little bit closer, don’t you think?” And we scooted closer. I placed my arm around her, my hand on her warm, bare back. I toyed with her hair as we sipped champagne. Good man, that Fritz.
“Mmmm,” Mom cooed. “That’s better. Now we look like a couple.” And she patted my knee under the table. And she kept it there. And I almost said that they can’t see under the table but I was able to shut my stupid mouth up just in time.
The dinner was tremendous. The filets were tender and succulent, the potatoes fabulous, and the company was… divine. Mom and I were touching practically through the whole dinner. Shoulders, or feet, or something. It wasn’t forced, either. It felt easy, almost natural. I regaled her with stories of bad girl friends and bad sex times; now that we were on a different level, we could talk about a lot more stuff.
Sadly, the dinner came to an end. The check arrived, in the amount of forty seven dollars. I protested to Fritz that it was too low, but he insisted. We tipped him and the waitress very well, though.
“Hey Fritz?” I asked as we were leaving. “Can you recommend any dance places around here?”
“But of course! Across the street is the fantastic Voodoo Lounge! You can leave your car here and call us to come get you! I will call my friend at the door, you won’t wait in line.”