Break-up Table

He looked at her quizzically…

She had just made a statement that most guys dread. She looked at him resolutely. He realized that she wasn’t joking.

“Dammit!” he thought

“So close…”

She picked up her purse and walked away from the table. He looked at her walking away with a sinking feeling he knew all too well.

“Don’t go…” he thought in agony. She didn’t even turn back to look at him.

“Bitch…” he thought as he fished out his credit card to pay the bill. He walked away from the ‘break-up table’. That table had done it again!

“Goddamn uncanny!” he exclaimed in his brain. That table had never failed to ruin a relationship. The café he was leaving was called Antony’s. The table he was looking at was the third round table that sat near the picture window of the café.

He counted in his head “Natasha, Megha, Julie, and Jenny…wow!” this table is lethal.

This is his story…

“I have a fail safe you see. Whenever any relationship seems to be getting on me... as in growing on me. I have the ultimate test. I take the girl to the break up table. If she survives it – she can survive anything!!!

So I met this really really hot girl. She had all the bells and whistles in palace! And I mean what bells and whistles – whooo ho ho ho!

We went out to all the happening places.

Monica’s place – the warmest Italian restaurant this side of the city.

The bling – the hottest night club that all wannabes want to get into.

 The shack – an awesome grungy place that takes you back ages.

The Marriot – 5 star elegance.

It was all awesome! I tell you man – it was brilliant. She was awesome, she was cool, she had the entire attitude I wanted and more. She seemed to be the perfect woman who was, incidentally the woman of my dreams as well!

Alas! The break-up table.

I most naively asked her to partake breakfast at the dreaded table in a Saturday night drunken haze. She agreed.

We met up Sunday morning – ok! She was looking most pretty (Given the Neanderthal activities she had indulged in), in a bright blue frock.

She walked up sunnily to the table and sat down. The proceedings started off badly. The chair seemed wobbly to her. The owner came out and put a cardboard carton to right it. He looked at me knowingly and gave a slight smile.

She opened the menu and most grudgingly agreed to toast, egg and some bacon. She already seemed irritable.

“Did you enjoy last night sweety?”

“yeah…(whatever)” she answered nonchalantly.

(grrrrr…..)

I myself did not know how to make any legible conversation.  I sat there looking at her - Pretty sure that the next thing she would say the dreaded words.

She did not – not yet.

She seemed to be bored – “well what’s the plan for today then?” – I asked.

“Ummmm…nothing, I guess…”

“Hmmm…”

I knew it wasn’t going too well. I saw it slipping.

“Well…say something!” I endeavored almost on the verge of tears.

“Ummm, well it’s just this…”

She broke up even before the eggs arrived.

I watched her walk away

“Bitch …” I thought as she did.

“Damn you break-up table!”

Well, shit happens you know. I take it in my stride – well not literally! Cmon!

Anyway, so yeah, she walked away from the table. And obviously I had to start up again.

She was a doe eyed wonder. She was cute and sprightly. She turned all my right knobs. And more.

Well I looked away when she looked too closely at me. I was afraid you see – very afraid.

It wasn’t the best of things to do – or the bravest. But nevertheless it was the only defense I had to her charms.

I knew, she hadn’t passed the break up table test. The acid test of all. I proposed the bloody black breakfast to her. She readily agreed with dimpled cheeks!

Oooo, iw as gonna miss this woman!

And she walked…just like that! Poof! My gregariousness, my might, my intelligence, my physique – all melted away in her eyes.

I wanted to hang myself at that time – no kidding. I even got myself a rope. Only that it was too uncomfortable otherwise I would have followed through.

She oozed intelligence.

She had wavy hair, and wore rectangular glasses that slightly magnified her eyes – she was sexy - or rather her brain was sexy.

She walked with her head held high – fully knowing that she was in command.

Wow! Now that really turned me on.

She would quote Shakespeare, Freud, and Gandhi in the same breath. She was the beautiful goddess of knowledge – who, when spoke, spoke with a thousand times the light of the sun.

She was petite – which meant she was easy handling. That was another boon. Although nothing less than a wildcat!

Pretty soon the test loomed. I made the proposition for the last supper.

She agreed.

She appeared in a simple jeans and tees. She sat down looking at me with the intent gaze that called me a dunce whenever she looked at me.

I would readily wear a conical cap and sit in the corner for her.

She walked!

Damn you woman!

…

A smile – a slight gentle winning smile. Soft lips and softer words that flowed effortlessly. She seemed fine. Nothing jarring about her. Nothing whatsoever.

She sat quietly. All about her there was a serene quietness. I don’t really know what she was all about. I kept looking at her intently.

She pursed her lips in some thought as she ran a finger on the rim of the wine glass.

I kept on looking at her, she did not give any tell tale signs. She kept thinking about something.

“What’s wrong?” I asked half in dread.

“Oh, I don’t know…” she gave a slight smile.

“What…” I smiled back.

She directed her lamps towards me, “nothing…” and she smiled.

The table broke that day.