A Table for Two - Broccoli, James Broccoli

“Table for 2 for Broccoli”.

“Right this way Mr. Broccoli and madam”.

We’re at a small, elegant, and uptown restaurant I am barely able to afford –

it’s her birthday –

she smiles brilliantly and floats delicately into the fancy straight-back chair,

as the maître d' holds it out for her – then pushes it in –

he’s beaming and doesn’t seem to see me at all

The gentlemen (all of them) throughout the room and those at the bar cannot help but stare at her –

She is wearing her hair down – and it’s lovely –

it playfully drapes down the back of the chair

her posture perfectly erect –

she could be a model or a famous actress –

she looks beautifully classy – and I know she truly is

Her dress is silvery-grey – exquisite and flowing

it shimmers charmingly underneath the dim mood-lighting –

I know she’d prefer to be wearing pants – preferably baggy sweats and a t-shirt –

but, this evening, she is polished and absolutely radiating –

she’s even wearing heals – earlier she said something about “over a dead body” – and then she put them on –

and it just worked. and she walks in them with unequaled grace

The wine list is presented, and she picks one out almost randomly –

she drinks beer like I do –

she tries to pronounce what she is pointing at – and she giggles as she butchers “sauvignon blanc” –

the waiter smiles broadly (as I respectfully chuckle, quietly) –

her mispronunciation is quickly waved-away, because of her opulent manners and demeanor –

Beautiful women never need to explain themselves to men who enjoy beautiful women

_____

We’ve (she and I) been best friends since the early grades –

she climbing neighborhood trees in her hand-me-down jeans –

and me with my face within a book more often than not –

we’d play records throughout the evening – until one of us was called home –

Years later I escorted her to prom – as we always promised we’d go together –

she protesting (she thought prom was stupid) in ill-fitting military camouflage

and me in a tight-fitting and awkward suit I borrowed from a cousin –

even in combat fatigues – her beauty outshined every bit of light that looked upon her with envy

_____

She laughs – some might say a bit too loud – but I think her laugh is perfect –

the restaurant is thinning out – only a handful of us still at our tables

“May we have another bottle of the “sav-ig-non blank?”, my friend asks –

and the waiter smiles broadly, as he did before

“Of course, madam” – and I remind myself to tip well –

my friend is being catered to as if she is a queen –

because she is one

“You clean up pretty good”, I tell her from across the fancy table

“Yeah, who knew?”, she grins widely – almost mischievously

“I knew”, I say – and she shakes her head and smiles -

“you look a touch handsome yourself”, she compliments

“I suppose I do okay”, I reply - my glass of wine being refilled by the waiter

_____

We’re back at my apartment and she asks aloud,

“we’re not who we used to be, are we?”

And I answer, “we are – and we’re not”

She leaves her heals on and her hair down and flowing as we talk

– and I am surprised

“A delightful evening”, I say – and then she kisses me on the cheek –

she’s my best friend and I am hers –

She puts a record on and begins to sing along – then I join in –

- and then we’re both up and dancing around the room without abandon -

Her fancy dress and heels can’t hide the rock star she’s always been -

foul-mouthed, opinioned, and loud – and she drinks beer, like I do –

and she’s lovely, breathtakingly lovely –

and she’s my best friend – and always will be

Photo: Jimmy Broccoli.