This was last week. We’d just finished eating a fine meal at our favorite neighborhood Italian restaurant. And no, I don’t like it just because there’s a waitress there who for years has been willing to (unable to not?) flirt regardless of whether the mother of my children is sitting right there at the table opposite me. Though flirting is in the eye of the beholder; I’ve often argued that she’s just veeeeery gregarious. Mostly I think she’s good at her job, and knows which member of a party to charm in which way, for maximum income. Though the beloved has begged to differ, and is convinced that the gal, while fairly evidently straight (a femme lesbian knows her sistren), harbors a thing for the dapper butch and simply can’t contain herself. Who am I to contradict her? At any rate, it helps, I’m sure, that whenever she comes up to check on us and we’re lovey-dovey or laughing, she tells us how “cute” we are. We always say: parents on date night. Hard not to have a good time.
But I digress. We’d just left the restaurant, collars turned up against the nip in the air. We were peeping in a nearby store window when I heard the unmistakeable sound of a gaggle of high-spirited teenage voices. It was around 9:30 PM. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw them coming toward us in the crosswalk of the four-lane thoroughfare.
“Are they stopping for us?” said one of them to another, clearly referring to oncoming traffic. “They’re not stopping. They’re totally not stopping for us.”
Laughter ensued, and then other remarks out of earshot. I thought to myself: God love the young people. I mused a bit to myself about how interesting it was, how you could tell the mutual affection between the friends, and the self-confidence, all from the tone of voice. Not a one picked up her pace in the crosswalk, but all arrived unscathed and full of good cheer. Ah, the uncanny sense of invincibility that only the teen years can convey.
Read moreSeen and heard on date night