| Sometimes, when the waiter approaches a table with the check, some of the guests feel a sudden urge to go to the bathroom, and every so often the table simply ignores the fact that the time has come to pay up for what everybody has consumed.
Occasionally, the waiter looks around for the best spot on the table to leave the check almost anonymously, while everybody suddenly appears to be very preoccupied with checking fingernails, or with figuring out the quality of the napkin.
Rare are the occasion where a generous patron stretches out his hand to demonstrate that there is no ambiguity about who has declared the evening to be on him.
No matter what: there is always a moment when the conversation becomes markedly restrained when the time comes to pick up that folder, which everybody knows contains a money claim that is probably much higher than what they had anticipated.
But when the matter is finally resolved one way or another, everybody suddenly is relieved, comes alive, and many funny stories fly across the table, in exchange for what often sounds as uncontrolled laughter.
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It is a picture-perfect summer evening. Angelika and I are having a late dinner in Manhattan’s Meat District, near an open window, surrounded by a noise level that reaches a deafening amount of decibels.
Outside that window, just a few feet away, a group of Belgian tourists have reached the end of their meal and periodically ask to fill up their water glasses around the table.
At least half an hour has passed since the check arrived, without anyone making even the least gesture to acknowledge the fact of its painful presence. When it arrived, the air became so thick that you could have cut it with a knife, while no one made the slightest effort to look into the folder, or declare it his or her own.
As we wind up our meal, my observing eye unexpectedly spots a young lady taking out a credit card from her wallet and -with a big smile- tenders the brown booklet graciously to the server who is visibly eager to kick them all out, so she can make some real money with six potential new customers who are hopefully not all drinking water and have been patiently waiting on the sideline to get seated.
Whereupon the credit card girl turns around to her seven friends and tells each one of them how much they owe her in green dollar bills, including the server’s tip.
Everybody in the group gets busy counting and re-counting their single dollar bills, while the atmosphere has become rather subdued.
Finally, the accounts are settled and the group is all smiles again, happy for the uneasy matter to have been settled so gracefully.
But the biggest smile of all comes from the young lady-financier who has just turned her long-term credit debt into instant cash. |