Harriot, I mean Mrs. Johanna raised her eyebrows at me, “You mean you didn’t notice?”

“Well, I didn’t really get to spend much time getting to know him really.” I said in my own defense.

A waiter came to our table; at least I assumed he was the waiter, because all the guys in that place were wearing nearly identical black suits with black shirts and ties. If I hadn’t known better, I would have thought I was hanging out with the Sicilian Mafia or something.

“I see your guest has finally arrived, ladies,” he said, giving me a welcoming nod.

“What happened to our other waiter?” Mrs. Killington asked.

“That is the same waiter Genevieve.” Mrs. Monroe said with a hint of annoyance.

Mrs. Killington reached out without him seeing her do so and cupped his left buttocks just as she had mine. “Oh yes, that’s him alright.” She said smiling and nodding.

Everyone at the table, myself included, turned about twenty shades of red. Doctor Stenenbaulm chose to hide her face in her hands as Mrs. Johanna shook her head disapprovingly. The waiter simply smiled and laughed it off with a very funny comment, “Mrs. Killington, I’ve told you before that you can’t have desert before dinner.”

Mrs. Killington got a real kick out of that. “Well, then stop standing around looking all sorts of beautiful and bring us something to eat.” And she popped him one on the butt to drive home her point.

I guess, when you have more money than anyone else in town, and you get as old and senile as Mrs. Genevieve Killington, you can get away with groping waiters in a fine restaurant like the Pine Club. However, I didn’t buy for a second that she was as senile as she acted. There was too much life in those eyes of hers. I think she acted like that because she knew she could get away with the sort of things she was doing.

Mrs. Orric, uh… Dotty, as she insisted on being called now, ordered for me. I didn’t understand a word of what she told our waiter, nor did I understand what the other ladies ordered, but when it was served, I saw that it was some sort of brown glazed fish with mixed veggies and something that resembled rice but was a mix of light and dark brown grains that were about three times longer than white rice.

When I picked up the glass of ice water that had been set in front of me and took a sip, I thought I was going to die. I coughed and gasped for air as the fire inside my mouth felt as though it was going to roast me from the inside out. Doctor Stenenbaulm patted me on the back, as did Mrs. Orric.

“What the heck is that?” I wheezed.

Mrs. Orric picked up the glass and took a sip, “For Pete-sake, you got Genevieve’s gin.”

Mrs. Killington picked up the glass in front of her and said, “I thought this was kind of weak.”

Everyone in the place was looking our way as I coughed and sweated bullets. The ladies at my table all thought it was funny. I on the other hand was glad I could almost breathe again.

“Mrs. Killington, I mean Genevieve, took the glass from Dotty and took a big gulping swallow before letting out a satisfying, “Yeah, that’s mama’s sweet nectar!”

“Buck up boy!” Genevieve said, “A couple of these and you’ll start growing hair in all the right places.”

That caused me to choke and cough again at the reference to my growing pubic hair. I might add that I already have pubic hair, but come on. Having important rich ladies talking about my short-and-curlys is not something I would have ever thought might happen to me.