Quick As A Mongoose - 2. By Any Other Name - 2/2/2016

Debra Waters looked at her phone, wondering why her brother would possibly be calling her at a time like this. He knew how important this night was for her; he’d set up the blind date in the first place! She needed to get ready, and had barely an hour before she was to be at the restaurant.

Sighing, she answered her phone a moment before it was to go to her voicemail. “Erik, what can I do for you?”

“Hey Debs, I need your advice,” Erik said, sounding frantic. “Clive just invited me to go meet his Father, and I—”

“When is this supposed to happen?” Debra interrupted, rolling her eyes.

“Next month,” Erik replied, “His Father invited us to—”

“Erik,” Debra said impatiently, “You have plenty of time to figure it out. You and Clive have been dating for two years, I think you should go. Why is this even a question? And why are you asking me about it when you know I’m meeting Peter tonight?”

“Peter? Oh shit, is that tonight? Gee, I’m sorry, Debs,” Erik said, and Debra knew her little brother was shaking his head violently on the other side of the line. “Well, good luck with your date,” Erik continued, “You haven’t dated anyone since Craig. I still think it’s terribly he broke things off with you because of the boat.”

“Yeah, well, he was a creep,” Debra said through gritted teeth. “Are you sure I’m going to like Peter?”

“Trust me, he’s a hopeless romantic and he’s eccentric. Last I checked, those are the qualities you were looking for these days,” Erik replied, chuckling. “You’re going to have a great time.”

“I hope so,” Debra said, smiling fondly at her brother’s optimist. “As long has he doesn’t have a boat.”

“Nope, he hates the water as much as you do,” Erik replied, laughing.

Despite her worry about the coming evening, Debra found herself grinning from ear to ear. “He sounds perfect.”

~    ~    ~    ~    ~

“What the hell?” Debra asked as she pulled up in front of the restaurant. It had a French name she didn’t dare try and pronounce, and out in front was a man in a strange red, white, and black striped suit, wearing white face paint and lipstick.

He bowed to her as she drove a little further and stopped next to him, then he walked around the car to her side and sat down in the air, balancing on one foot as he pantomimed pressing an invisible pedal with his right foot while moving a similarly imaginary gear shift with his right hand. He then gripped a nonexistent steering wheel in both hands and turned it back and forth.

The whole scenario was mesmerizing to Debra, but she realized what the man was asking. In her last text from Peter he’d mentioned valet parking, and this man must be the valet in question. She put her car in park and then stepped out of the vehicle. The mime bowed and stood patiently as he waited for her to step away from the vehicle.

“Please take care of her,” Debra said, smiling gently at the mime valet. “She’s my baby.”

The valet bowed again and Debra stepped away, giving him access to the driver seat. He slid fluidly into place and closed the door behind him, then made eye contact with Debra. With a slight smile, he gently caressed the steering wheel and nodded, then put the car in drive. He pulled away from the curb slowly and Debra watched him go, hoping he would take as good of care of her car as it seemed he would.

She turned her attention back to the restaurant and took a deep breath. Peter was supposed to be in there waiting for her, and after the experience with the mime she had no idea what to expect. As soon as she walked up the short staircase to the building, however, she realized there was much more to come.

Two more mimes were standing on either side of the doorway, though they were several feet in front of it. As she neared they bowed toward each other and reached for nonexistent door handles instead of the real ones, then made it seem like they were struggling to open doors which weren’t really there. As they pulled back, shuffling away from each other with strained expressions, the real doors to the restaurant opened.

The doors must be automatic, Debra reasoned as she walked through the open doors, smiling at the antics of the mimes. The theme continued as she saw the maître d’, who was dressed just as the valet and the doorman were. He bowed at her when she entered then gestured toward a large chart, showing the floorplan of the restaurant with tables included. Names were written over the different tables, showing reservations. She saw her name immediately and pointed it out the toe Maitre d’, who immediately smiled and took two menus in his hand before gesturing for Debra to follow him.

The room was fairly quiet, though it was filled with people enjoying their meals and engaged in light conversation. Waiters dressed as mimes were moving through the patrons, as silent as ever as they went about their duties. How the ordering process was done, Debra could only guess, but she hoped she would find out soon.

She looked at the maître d’ with confusion as they reached an apparently empty section of the room against the wood-paneled wall. The maître d’ stopped and waved two of the waiters over, one brought a table cloth with him and the other a pair of plates, utensils, and glass goblets. Debra watched as the maître d’ and the first waiter took the table cloth between them and stretched it out in the air next to the wall. They snapped it twice between them and then dropped it.

Debra gasped as the table cloth landed flat in the air, suspended as if by magic. The two waiters then set about setting the dishes atop the table, arranging them beautifully. One waiter began making small folding movements on the table top, and Debra watched his hands closely, mesmerized as she imagined the napkin he was folding. Then suddenly the napkin was there as the mime performed some sleight of hand trick she couldn’t follow. It was perfectly folded just as she’d imagined it would be.

The waiter repeated the process at the other place setting, but he paused briefly, looking up at Debra and winking. She followed his hands even more closely this time, and caught him when he slid the napkin out of his apron pocket and set it on the table. His hands were quick, and she got the distinct impression he had allowed her to see it.

When she looked away from the waiter, she realized that two chairs had been added to the table while she was distracted, and the second waiter was pulling one chair out for her, gesturing for her to sit down. She did, and the maître d’ and second waited walked away, leaving her alone with the waiter who had performed the napkin tricks.

His white makeup was as thick as the other mimes, and his dark hair was slicked back into a pony tail. He wore dark eyeshadow and a bright shade of red on his lips, but his eyes were an enchanting shade of green which immediately caught her attention. Her waiter held his hands in front of him, forming the shape of a bottle, then pantomimed using a corkscrew to open it. As one hand pulled on the imaginary bottle, the waiter jumped as he pulled his hand back sharply, then his eyes widened as he pointed at the wall to where the invisible cork had flown. Debra allowed her attention to be diverted by her waiter, almost expecting to see the cork fall to the table.

By the time she turned back around, her waiter was pouring her a glass of red wine from a bottle he’d retrieved from somewhere, and he was watching her intently. She didn’t feel unnerved, despite the strength of his gaze, and was instead intrigued. As soon as the waiter was finished pouring the wine, he handed Debra the waiter and then bowed, walking away.

As soon as he was gone, Debra remembered the trick with the table cloth and was filled with curiosity. She ducked to the side, lifting the table cloth slightly so she could see underneath and then saw the nature of the trick. One of the wooden panels of the wall was made to be pulled away and turned into a table, a hidden support locking into place to keep it steady. This place was clearly built for theatrics.

Debra shook her head and smiled, perplexed but happy by her current situation, then turned to the menu. It was a concise menu, but not without variety. There were so many items which appealed to her she didn’t know where to begin, and she hoped Peter would arrive soon to help her decide.

She felt her phone buzz and pulled it out, her heart falling as she saw it was a text from Peter telling her he was going to be late. This was a strike against him for sure, especially since his text left no explanation as to why he wasn’t there. She wasn’t ready to give up on him yet, however. At least she’d be entertained while she waited.

Her waiter returned a moment later, and caught her frowning at her phone. She looked up at him and saw him frowning back at her, an exaggerated expression accentuated by raised eyebrows, as if he were questioning her.

“I’m supposed to be here on a date,” Debra explained, nodding at her phone. “He’s late.”

The waiter crossed his arms over his chest and shook his head ruefully, then he smiled suddenly and then held up his hand to indicate he wanted her to stop whatever she was doing and watch him. He crouched down and looked around, searching for something, then his face lit up with excitement. He walked a few feet away, then leaned forward and took a big sniff at the empty air. After offering Debra another wink, he reached forward, moving his hand as if he held a large pair of scissors, cutting at the air.

Debra watched the whole exchange with growing curiosity, and then gasped as her waiter turned back to her, a single red rose held in his hand. He walked toward her and presented it with a flourish and a bow, and she took it, awestruck by his trick.

His green eyes met her gaze once again, and he smiled, the gentle expression filling her with warmth. She blushed as her waiter turned and walked away, then lifted the rose to her nose and drank in its sweet scent.

And then she waited. Fifteen minutes passed, and she saw neither her waiter or heard from Peter. Each minute that passed made her more anxious, and more agitated, especially when another waiter arrived and eyed her and her menu expectantly.

“My date still isn’t here,” Debra explained, glancing at her phone and gritting her teeth in annoyance. “I’ll wait for him before I order, if you don’t mind.”

The new waiter nodded, and turned to go just as a man in a suit rushed into the room, looking frantic. His dark hair was wild and wet as if he’d just stepped out of the shower, and his skin was flushed as if he’d run there. His eyes settled on Debra and he breathed a sigh of relief, then he moved toward the table. He seemed familiar to Debra somehow, but as annoyed as she was, she wasn’t too keen on figuring out why.

“Sorry, Debra,” Peter said as he approached the table, keeping his gaze lowered in shame. “I didn’t mean to be so late. I had to work later than anticipated.”

Debra could feel the sincerity of his words and sighed, deciding to give him the benefit of the doubt for now. She smiled at him warmly and replied, “It’s not a big deal. At least you picked an entertaining place, though if you hadn’t shown up I might have gone home with my waiter.”

“The first one or the second one?” Peter asked, smiling.

“How did you—” Debra began, then gasped as Peter looked up and met her eyes, and she saw the same green eyes of her first waiter staring back at her. She hadn’t recognized him without the white makeup, but she could see the resemblance in him now. He’d been there the whole time.

“You have something in your hair,” Peter said, reaching toward her gently. When he pulled his hand back he was holding another red rose, and he presented it to Debra with a flourish and a bow. “I hope you’ll accept this as a token of my regret for being late.”

Debra took the rose in her hand and sniffed it. The scent was as sweet as the first rose had been, and surely there was no difference between the two, not even their presenter. She was convinced; Peter was everything he’d been advertised to be.

“Apology accepted,” Debra replied, gesturing to the seat across from her. “Now, please join me. There’s so much I want to know about you, and I’m eager to get started.”