Recently on a trip to Paris my friend and I were dining all over the city and taking in the warm views of centuries old culture. Being a wonderful city to venture around, we ate at a different restaurant nightly, as any good tourist would. Now my girlfriend is a bit squeamish when it comes to some kinds of food and even more so when it comes to specific kinds of living creatures. She's not a snob, or specist toward undomesticated animals but that doesn't mean she won't scream when presented with a rodenta animalia of the fuzzy grey variety. This of course was part of my male belief system, such as it is.
It's been a wonderful vacation so far and I didn't want to have it ruined for her but the quick sprint between tables by the runner in grey was undeniable. Because her back was to the dinner guest I had the advantage of not notifying her of the intruder. Keeping calm I forced my eyes back into my head and smiled when she asked, "Did hear what said"? Other diners were oblivious to the dinner guest which was amazing because it was actually running over their shoes! I wanted to watch this with helpless fascination but could not let on lest my friend freak. Trapped between "Tell her?" and "Don't do it!" I struggled with paying even closer attention to her conversational offerings than normal.
After 25 minutes of multitasking I was starting to show signs of great mental disturbance which was beginning to alarm my girlfriend with thoughts that I had not liked the food.
"No, the wine was very fine, and so too is the lamb." Unconvinced she wanted to know what was going on. She demanded that I come clean on what was going on. I was sure this would be a great upset for her to know there was a mouse with little whiskers and claws possibly running over our cheese plate prior to its arrival to our table, but I was stuck. I will not ruin dinner, I thought.
"Look, I'm just thinking that we've had a wonderful trip to Paris."
"And, you have something to ask me, " she questions with a slightly hopeful tone.
"Well," I demurred. "Sure, it's been really cool. Don't you think?"
"That's all? Look, Brian, I can tell you're not telling me everything. Are you seeing someone else!"
I almost choked to death on olive pit and ended up spitting it across the floor where the little grey stranger took it and hustled under the table of the couple sitting a few feet away. It turned and gave a curious look at me while working it's whiskers in a wry kind of smile if one could call it that. I smiled and almost laughed out loud. Then with horror I realized I had just visibly smiled at my girlfriends assertion that I was seeing someone else!
"Yes, wait, no! Of course, not. I mean what would make you think that?"
But the damage was already done. I could see on her face the collapse of the warmth we had had only a few moments ago turn to icy despondence.
"Sweetie," I cooed, "I could never do anything like that. I'm just. You know. Umm."
"You better tell me what's going on," she said. "Now!' I was stuck there wondering how this had happened. The eyes of the wicked monster stared mockingly at me and my sweet's eyes glared impatiently, and I felt helpless. Just then a woman in the table nearby had spied the mouse as he made a dash for sliver of fallen cheese.
"Oooh," she cried. Not so very loud as a wine cork leaving a bottle for the fist time, but audible enough that it brought attention to her from around the room. Suddenly several diners were watching the floor with interest.
"Look," I said! "A mouse!" And turning her head she laughed at the site of what was honestly a cute looking little grey beast. Turning back to me she seemed to understand something and pulled in close toward me to say,
"Did you know that was there?"
"I really didn't want to say anything about it, but you know. . . "
We ended our meal and had a good walk back to the metro station talking about all the things we saw.
So, if there is a mouse on your trip to Le Zimmer, it just means that the food is really good. Might I even suggest giving up an olive just to be polite. read more