Panther Prattle

When the Menu Includes Eye Candy, Tips are Inclusive

"Sorry I am late," trills Kiera when she walks up behind me and hugs my neck.

She quickly covers the two steps necessary to reach the opposite side of the table, then slips into a high-back chair.

"You look great," she enthuses after tugging the apron of a passing waitress.

"Drink menu," commands Kiera before the pony-tailed waitress makes eye contact.

Before the unnamed waitress forms a syllable in response, I defuse with, "She is not our waitress."

Eager to sass, Kiera primes her eyebrows up and down but reconsiders when I slide the drink menu across the table.

She giggles, and the waitress continues her trek further into the dining space.

"Thanks for the invitation, Kiera," I properly acknowledge.

"No problem," she breathes while studying the various libations with names representing prominent global figures.

I survey the woman, thirty years my junior, seated directly across from me, and with an absence of concern ask, "What are you having?"

"The Ellen Sirleaf... what about you?" flies over the menu and lands somewhere near my salad plate.

Kiera lowers the menu, and after she does, I reply, "The Winnie Mandela."

"Afternoon lovely ladies," greets a very stylish guy with surfer highlights framing his angled face.

"Hhhhiiii," stammers Kiera.

"Yes, it is a lovely afternoon. Thank you," I add when he breezes past.

Kiera nearly falls onto the floor spinning left to watch him stroll away, then take a seat at the bar.

I almost mutter something about how good his ass looks in faded and ripped jeans, but I recall the present company and radiate a smile, instead.

"Hi, I am Izzy," greets a freckled waitress with a diamond stud nestled above a chin cleft.

Izzy deftly whips a pen from a bun piled atop her head with one hand, and a leather-bound notepad from her apron pocket with the other.

"Well-mannered and handsome over there wants you both to know lunch is on him," adds Izzy with a smile and her head tilting toward to bar.