Like a Peacock

“Hot and saucy,” gargled the ruminant tax accountant, “like I like my broads.” His bald head glistened in the candlelight of the oily evening as he lifted another forkful of lasagna to his blubbery lips. His date shifted uncomfortably in her seat and adjusted her napkin. Blind dates can be uncomfortable but hemorrhoids can be worse.

The young woman knew herself to shine, of course. Shine like a star. She knew her escort to be the envy of every man in the restaurant on this oily evening, and surely all men would covet such a blind date with a shining star such as herself. She touched her hair absentmindedly and covertly adjusted her breasts against her forearms. The slight manipulation of her perceived cleavage pleased her greatly. Had her hemorrhoids not been flaring this might have been a bearable evening, oily though it was.

The ruminant tax accountant wiped his blubbery lips on his napkin and make a loud sucking sound between his teeth. What might have been a belch emanated from between those lips and he touched his sternum. He glanced out the window at passers-by.

“Hot and saucy, I tell you,” he said again, winking at his date. She smiled back and then glanced down at the table, wondering how a shining star such as herself ever wound up with such an ashen gargler. It was then that she saw the reflection of the handsome young man in the metal lamp on her table. There, in the silver of the lamp's base she could see an Adonis with wavy black hair and a firm, young jaw standing on the street outside the window, looking in. He was most certainly transfixed. He was most certainly captivated with her beauty - the beauty of this shining star. Her silken hair, her flawless skin, her perfect teeth. Her well-adjusted cleavage. Here was a man, she thought, who knew beauty. A man who knew radiance. A man, she thought, who knew the real value of a goddess.

The ruminant tax accountant chewed on. The young woman beamed. The young man left the window and made his way home, making a mental note to try out the decadent-looking lasagna the next time he visited the trattoria.