Morning all. Today, I am not quite so perky. Today is the day where coffee needs to be injectional. Alas, it is not to be. So whhile it is brewing in the background, let’s get started on the morning prompt. Set the timers for fifteen minutes and let’s see what shakes loose.
I like this one. it has possibilities. An unlikely friendship, a strained familial relationship, and the event itself. All sorts of fun things can be seen from here. Not sure which one would emerge, but it might be worth taking the time to find out..
Tuesday, July 19th: Despite his formidable reputation, I found him quite engaging.
Despite his formidable reputation, I found him quite engaging. I was seated next to him at the banquet. My assumption was that no one knew quite where else to put us and then grouped us with a table of other people who did not quite fir with the group at large.
I was certain that nearly everyone else in his economic tier had requested a table and been given their seat of choice, either that or they had reserved an entire table for themselves and their friends. Like Mr. Evans, I was here alone. The rest of our table comprised a small party. They were not large enough to take the entire table and so we had been tacked on.
They delighted in their own company and ignored us. Mr. Evans seemed perfectly at his ease although I did notice others looking towards our table as though wondering if they ought to stop by. Whatever their reasoning, they always seemed to talk themselves out of it.
I too was unsure of conversation but was trapped by basic manners when asked, “So what is it you do?”
I smiled and told him that I worked in a bakery. Usually that was enough to either stop conversation or send others into delightful reminiscences of delectable edibles gone by. To my surprise he seemed interested.
“You are a baker?” he asked. He didn’t bother hiding his surprise. “Bit of an odd place for you then.”
I smiled. There was something refreshing about his directness. “Familial obligation,” I replied.
“Oh,” he said. He looked around, first at our table and then around the room. “Don’t tell me you’re related to one of this lot?”
“No,” I replied. “Apparently plans changed and they couldn’t make it but still wanted to send a representative.”
“And you weren’t quick enough with a handy lie?” he guessed.
I thought about arguing the point and stating that I was happy to support such an event and represent my family. But as I opened my mouth I thought of his own candor. “Afraid not,” I said.
In fact when my step mother called, I had been idiot enough to inform her of what I had been planning for the day. She steam rolled over my plans, sent over a dress as she knew I wouldn’t have anything suitable and when the car arrived to pick me up I found myself feeling obligated to get into it.
He looked me over, the look taking in the dress that almost but not quite fit despite its designer label and the color that made me look slightly jaundiced. I wondered if he would comment. Perhaps he would have but the dinner plate arrived. The chicken breast was both pale and over cooked. It peeped through the sea of sauce like a whale sunning it’s underbelly after surfacing from colder waters below. The veg was attractive looking but oddly hadn’t been steamed long enough so it felt half raw in the mouth.
“I suggest when you leave, you come up with a suitable lie just to have one on hand,” he said.
“A good thought I added. How come you’re here at the nobody’s table?” I couldn’t resist asking. His lips twitched.
“Implying by default that I am somebody?” he said.
Ten til Midnight 