An Amorous Waiter

Has anyone seen the film Friends with Money? A very good film, rent it if you haven't seen it, Jennifer Aniston is actually good in it ... but I digress. In the film, there is a scene where Frances McDormand is out for dinner at a fancy restaurant with her well-groomed husband, whom everyone assumes is gay, and the gay waiter completely fusses and fawns over him, utterly ignoring his wife, and it's soon clear that the waiter has the serious hots for her husband.

This happened to me just the other night. Except that I was the waiter's object of desire. Me!!! The woman who fears she has unsightly facial hair that everyone is too polite to mention!! Who wishes she had time to join a gym! Whose life is devoted to her kids and her house and her job. Who is pretty certain her husband doesn't love her anymore and wants to leave!! Little old me!!!

We were out for dinner at our favourite neighbourhood bistro. I had been there two weeks earlier and had the same waiter, but honestly don't recall anything memorable about that evening. I didn't flirt. I barely noticed the man, but do remember he was a good and attentive waiter.

Last night I arrive at the restaurant before my husband and his face lights up with joy upon seeing me, as if we were dear old friends who hadn't seen one another in too long. He brings me a delicious light Lillet cocktail on the house. He then proceeds to spend the next two hours flirting with me, complimenting me, double-checking to make sure I have everything I need, asking how my dishes are, and barely paying any attention to my husband, who sat there increasingly fuming all night. "This guy is aggressively flirting with you,'' he sniped. "I've never seen anything like it." Naturally, he was as rude as possible to the waiter, although that's a bad habit of his anyway.

Now as mentioned, I am going through some very tough times and fully expect my husband to tell me at any moment that he's moving out. I have been living with something akin to a guillotine hanging over my head for months, just waiting for my husband to lower it. I am sad, weepy, scared, terrified, sick at heart, etc. So to have this young, handsome waiter act as though he's completely smitten with me was really nice for the ego. Whoever sent him from above, I thank you. Dad? Dave? Daryl?

If I end up getting dumped, I'll be spending a lot more time at my neighbourhood bistro.