The dinner was perfect. The lights were low, augmented by single white candles in the middle of each table. The sushi was exquisitely prepared, as only Slim's Sushi and Salad Emporium was able. And, the company...aah, the company.
Sam, a dirty blond lawyer, was resplendent in a light blue three piece suit with matching tie and handkerchief and gold pocket watch. Susan, a bleached blond account executive with a small advertising firm, wore a white dress with a simple yellow flower pattern. Susan smiled a lot as the conversation wore on, but there was a troubled glint in her eye.
Sam, used to calm, was completely unaware of it.
"So, I told him," Sam said, "that if that was the way he felt about it, he could handle the case himself, and I proceeded to throw him out of my office."
Susan smiled wanly. "That must have cost you a lot of money, Sam..." she said.
"It might," Sam agreed. "But, I think he'll be back in a couple of days. If not, c'est la vie, n'est-ce pas? "
"Oui," Susan answered. They ate in silence for a moment. Eventually, Susan said, "Sam, I...I have something to tell you..."
"Yes...?" Sam prompted her.
"Well, we've been living together for two year, now..."
"Two years and a month," Sam corrected her.
This flustered Susan. "Yes," she said. "Well..."
From somewhere in the restaurant, a high-pitched beeping sound came. Sam and Susan looked at each other for a brief moment, then Sam took a small metal object from his breast pocket. "Excuse me," he smiled, "but duty calls." Sam left the table, heading in the direction of the nearest phone booths.
Susan picked miserably at her food. This was not going as she had imagined it. Five minutes later, Sam returned to the table, angry.
"I warned them not to try that line of defense," he muttered to himself. "But, did they listen? Of course not!"
"Sam?" Susan tried to get his attention.
"Well, let the poor bugger rot in jail for 20 years!" Sam continued. "I won't be held responsible..."
"Sam!" Sue was more insistent. She was afraid that Sam was causing a scene, and he hadn't even heard the worst of it, yet.
"I'm sorry, dear," Sam feebly apologized, barely able to hold back his anger. "You wanted to tell me something?"
"Yes," Susan nervously began. "You know that I love you very much..." Sam perked up, preening himself proudly.
Unfortunately, it was at that moment that a waiter hesitantly stepped up to the table and cleared his throat. "Excuse me..." he tentatively interrupted the conversation.
"Yes," Susan harshly said.
"Do either of you own a grey Mercedes, license number -"
"I do," Susan angrily stopped him. "Why?"
"You're blocking another car," the waiter said, eyes firmly planted in the floor. It was clear from his tone of voice that he would rather have been anywhere else just then. "It would be greatly appreciated if you would kindly move your vehicle..."
"You don't usually trouble the guests over trivial matters like this," Susan bluntly stated.
"No, Ma'am," the waiter agreed. "It's just that the car you are blocking belongs to the owner..."
Ten minutes later, Susan returned to the table. "Sue," Sam asked, "you were about to tell me something?"
"Sam," she said, all pretense of patience lost, "I'm leaving you."
Sam could not comprehend this. "What?"
"I'm ending the relationship," Susan stated with finality.
"Ending the relationship? Why would you - you haven't found anybody else - no, you couldn't have...did you?" Sam was struggling with a variety of emotions, clearly very deeply confused.
"Of course not," Susan assured him. "There can never be another like you..."
"Really? I guess not. Thanks. But, if that's not the problem, why are you leaving me?"
"I...I'm not sure, really," Susan explained. "It's this life, I think...oh, Sam, I'm just not happy..."
"Not happy?" Sam was incredulous. "Not happy? We're rich, we're young, we're beautiful..."
"I know all that," Susan said. "Still, I'm not happy."
"What does happiness have to do with anything?" Sam asked, more than a little hurt. We're rich, young and beautiful. Who needs happiness?"
Susan's eyes widened. "You mean...?"
"That's right," Sam told her, "I'm not particularly happy, either. Damn miserable, in fact. So what? Who needs happiness when you've got everything that we've got? You think any of our friends are happy? Nobody like us is happy - that's for other people..."
Susan smiled. "Oh, Sam," she purred.
"We've got each other - what do we need happiness for? It's vastly over-rated."
Susan felt more at peace with herself than she had for a long time. If she had been able to recognize it, she might have said she was - well, no, that would be too much.
"Now, if we've got that little silliness out of the way," Sam said, "finish your dessert, or we'll be late for the opera..."
