under the influence

glass

A quaint neighborhood restaurant, on a weeknight. A quiet table away from the street, out of the wind. Some Turkish mezedes. A glass of wine, bulbous, proud and tall. A Canadian foursome, loquacious all. The blonde spoke Greek, her boyfriend collected and clueless at her side. A bit of outrageous flirtation with the proprietor; she exclaimed first thing, before she even sat down, that he looked like Antonio Banderas. “No one ever told me that before,” he said, causing her to repeat it four or five times, soliciting superfluous affirmation from the others. Most compliments contain some amount of exaggeration, and some amount of truth. Another couple, sitting side by side at a table for four, facing two empty chairs. This position is called “riding the bus.”