A few weeks ago, on a Saturday evening, I had dinner at one of those chi-chi restaurants I only visit if invited.
Our server was a pleasant young lady, and wine and steaks tasted great.
Sooooo…at some point, during the evening a family came to occupy a table close to ours.
It appeared to be a three generation affair. Grandparents, parents and kids. Young kids, kindergarteners? Well behaved.
The dad acted—restless. Twice he got up and walked out of the dining room. The stocky man with big hair practically brushed against my friend’s chair every time he went outside, his strolls were hard to ignore.
When he walked back the second time, my friend whispered something in my ear. “Herpes.”
What? I was stunned and not in a good way.
We reached the magic moment when we shared dessert and here comes the dad again. Could he be a smoker? That would explain the quick trips outside. And again my friend whispers in my ear that ugly word “Herpes.”
I found myself staring at the dad’s lips. Maybe that’s where my friend noticed…you know…herpes.
In the car on the way home I could no longer control my curiosity…”How could you tell?” I asked my friend.
“Ewww..what are you talking about?”
“The man, at the table next to us, every time he walked by you whispered in my ear…herpes.”
He looked at me with bugged out eyes, I swear. Then he started to laugh so loud I thought he was high on something. “Ahah! Too funny! Herpes, ahaha!” Well, you get the picture.
“I said hairpiece, not herpes….ahah! I’m posting this on Facebook, ahah!” Jerk. “And don’t give me the excuse of your Italian accent, your ears don’t have an accent.”
Well, since he was going to act like a total moron, I decided to beat him at his own game and here we are. On facebook, #herpes/hairpiece. That’s all. Ciao.
#herpes, #Phoenix, #Arizona, #Hairpiece