A tango etiquette (1)

They both sat there, quiet. Neither had said a word, it had been now nearly 10 minutes since the pizza had been brought, sliced, and dished onto their plates. The pieces were still sitting there, nothing in fact was touched by either of these two.

The waiter gradually looked more and more anxious. He kept looking around and could not stop wondering if he had done anything wrong with servicing that table. He was relatively new and he feared another complaint. That would be certainly his last if he got another one again in this place. He did not want to cause one complaint by simply intruding into something private but he had to make sure he was not at fault.

Perhaps it had nothing to do with his service but he couldn't be sure. He eventually managed to take charge of his fear and courage and he went forward, a customary smile on his face, and he tried a little harder with his imitation of an Italian accent.

"Is a very sing Ol rite a, for you?, senior a and seniorina eh , please?!" "Can I, please, a get you som a sing or Especial if you need , ha! si, please?!" but they would not even look at him, never mind taking enough notice of his presence to answer him back. "Perhaps, I pour a you a little more vine, in your glasses, Si, yes? You luv d pitza hot, we make it hot, a fresh ere, just now, si!?", he looked at them studiously for a little while and soon put the wine bottle back again on the table. Both glasses were still full to the brim.

The combination of his stage whispering his words and this couple's lack of response attracted even more attention now. The waiter fussed a little more, moving attentively but without much purpose, then he decided that this may have nothing to do with him or his shortcomings.

He started again, this time trying to speak his Italian theatrical accent slightly louder, he needed to, in case the manager was near enough to hear, he said "Anjoy d luv-e-ly d pitza, a very much, grat zia, grat zia!" and slowly walked away pretending that all is well now.

When left alone, the man looked up and tried to hide his grimace from his face, with a forced smile he said "I thought he would not leave us, alone!", she did not even look up to acknowledge the comment.

Earlier, on the train things were very different between them, they had been laughing and joking the whole time. They had their arms around each other, teased one another as lovers do, being shamelessly absorbed in each other's playful childish games of attention seeking and giving, this went on the whole time till they reached London.

He had been so looking forward to spend this evening with her. All day today he has had a spring in his steps, the thought of spending this evening with her had made him smile to himself in uncharacteristic manner. He did not care, he would have loved to know if everyone knew or noticed how much and why he was so happy these days.

She had been almost the same, she had even caught herself unaware in making ochos between her desk and the water cooler. Looking flushed and slightly embarrassed in case she had been watched she had surveyed the surroundings, no one was looking up, then she had continued with more forward ochos back to her desk late that afternoon.

After work had finished before leaving the building she had been to the ladies and changed, she had dressed very smartly now, far too sexy for the office look. Her make up was spot on and flawless. She had made sure that her perfume scent was just pitched at the right tone and volume. Her appearance from her polished toe nails to the beautifully arranged hair all looked nearly perfect and she had to stop herself fussing further after she refreshed her lips with her lipstick and tried a little more for perfection with the liner.

She was certain that she looked charming and definitely desirable. What she really wanted was to look devastating, in one simple word: "irresistible".

She may not have been certain but there was no way that she could have failed in looking perfect.

It had happened on the way to the restaurant, the argument had boiled over from a simple conversation, better still: a simple difference of opinions on tango 'etiquette'.

A seemingly insignificant matter of acceptance or rejection of a dance invitation from a friend, that was the core of their argument, or at least that was 'it' on the surface, before 'it' had boiled over to other things.

She said "...but, when we are there together, we have gone there as a couple, right? we should simply say 'NO!', that is it: 'NO, Thank You!' there is no need to feel awkward or uncomfortable about this."

"We have both got so many good friends there, we can not suddenly stop dancing with all our friends" he protested innocently, "Yes we can" she replied sharply, "when and if you are on your own that is fine but if we are there together, no, I don't like it and I won't do it either".

Foolishly he had said "but I have known some of these women for much longer than I have known you and...", this was the trigger that had made her explode. What was meant to be a teasing remark by him it had now become a matter of personal conviction to her, means by which to measure self-worth. There was now something that needed to be proved; a matter of honouring and respecting loving emotions, it was no longer a teasing remark to be ignored but the point was something that she could weigh herself against.

Neither of them felt yet unsafe enough to want to stop, so the argument continued....

MilongaCat.