date night
a man and a woman sit at the table across from us. he is fit, fortyish and black, drinks a manhattan that he holds by the stem like a flower. she is sixties, has a neck that flaps goiter-like when she turns her head, is decked out in egyptian art deco jewelry that could have been her mother’s. they hold hands, and she gives him pecks on the cheek.
was he an escort? i like to think he’s a time traveler, and this was one of his one true loves.
