It was a hard rain. The type of rain that soaks you through, soaks you even though you're wearing an overcoat. I had never felt so wet before.
I managed to make it through the door to the restaurant and stood there in the foyer, dripping. The water poured off my hat onto my collar, down my overcoat, and on to my already drenched feet. I shook the water off and best I could and stared out the front window. This rain wasn't going to let up soon.
It was 9 o'clock and I hadn't really had anything to eat since that late lunch with my clients. God, I hate business trips.
The podium was empty, but soon a middle-aged woman in a dark dress walked over to it and asked how many were in my party.
"Just one," I replied, trying to look dry.
"Follow me," she said and picked up a menu and began walking away.
I followed her. The restaurant was dimly lit, probably in a fashion the owner thought would represent romance and intrigue. There were not many patrons in the place, quite understandable considering the weather.
The woman seated me in a little alcove on the side of the restaurant. There was only one other table where another lone man sat. A window looked out toward the parking lot, but all that could be reasonably seen was the sheet of rain.
The woman left and shortly a waiter appeared. I order a steak, rare, but not bloody, a baked potato and some coffee.
The waiter scurried off. I looked at the wine list.
I noticed that the man at the other table looked up to greet a woman coming back to the table. The woman was wearing an incredibly short skirt and a very low-cut blouse. So, the man wasn't alone like me. She must have been in the powder room.
I again started to look at the wine list, but heard some low giggles coming from the other table. The alcove was fairly isolated from the rest of the restaurant, an ideal place for some sordid little affair, I thought. They were finishing there meal and tinkling wine glasses. I tried to ignore them. What can be worse than being alone and not 15 feet away from a couple having a good time.
The waiter returned with my meal and I began to add extra butter over my potato, the way I like it, oozing in thick gobs down the sides of the potato.
I grabbed two of those little cups of cream to add to my coffee, I looked over at the other table. The woman's skirt was hiked up high and she spread her legs, flashing me. She wasn't wearing any panties. I squeezed the cream cup and it spurted all over the table cloth. I diverted my glance, embarrassed, both at what I saw and at the mess I had made. I tried dabbing up the cream with my napkin.
The woman seemed oblivious to the fact that I was 5 yards away. She giggled and nuzzled the man's neck. I tried to concentrate on cutting my steak, but I cast furtive peeks at the woman who continued to show off her smoothly shaved prize.
The man had moved his hand down to her thigh and had begun gently carressing it. It was as if I were hypnotized. I couldn't take my eyes off them, and they didn't seem to know or care that I was in the room with them. I quickly turned to the main room to see if anyone else was watching. The few people seated out there were in their own little worlds.
