A change of Menu
| Sarah and Margaret had planned to meat at the new cafe down the street. Touted as the best restaurant for Nouvelle cuisine with a Bluesy kind of atmosphere, the girls were excited to partake. Sarah rushed through her morning at the office, checking her watch often in her eagerness. Margaret spent her morning dressing herself and two kids, feeding said kids, dropping them off at the babysitters, and driving into the city. Margaret was ecstatic to have just two hours of adult conversation without feeling the need to wipe someone's mouth. The pair met promptly at noon and waited together to be seated.
As they chatted about the current events, the Maitre d' came to escort them to a table on the patio. Dressed in a black tux with silken black shirt and red bow tie, he represented the epitome of refinement. His wavy black hair, being slicked back with oils to smother strays into compliance, possessed a translucent sheen. His skin was beyond pale offering a blue hue. He sported a neatly trimmed handle-bar moustache. As if he were a swan floating on water, he moved gracefully to greet the ladies.
"Reservations?" he said..
"Yes, Barrens party of two," Sarah replied trying hard to sound as sophisticated
"Yes, follow me please," he said
They were seated at an ornate wrought iron table decorated with doilies and roses. Surrounded by a garden wall of greenery, the ladies were secluded from other patrons.
"May I start you off with a bottle of our finest wine?" he suggested.
"I have to go back to work, so I will just have a sweet tea, please," Sarah replied.
"Same for me please," Margaret said.
The Maitre d' lifted his black shoe-polished brow in a show of obvious disappointment.
"Tea, you say? There are some much finer choices on the menu for your selection."
"Thank you, just tea please, with lemon." They said in unison, stifling their giggle.
"I will see to it immediately," he said with obvious disgust on his face.
While the ladies resumed catching up, they failed to notice the serpents creeping from the bushes behind them. Camouflaged as vines the snakes were only visible as the tongues of poison darted towards the women's flesh. Slowly they coiled themselves onto the chair occupied by Margaret. Being a mother, she was oblivious to intrusion.
The Maitre d' returned to the table with a tray carrying two glasses of white wine. His eyes were a fiery red and his tongue darted in and out in symmetry with the asps. On his shoulder sat an ebony raven that screeched a terrifying siren. A puff of black smoke rose upward from the ground as the Maitre d' placed the tray on the table. A bluesy form of the death march flowed from the nearby speaker.
The women exchanged glances of uncertainty.
Margaret said without the blink of an eye, "Oh, I'm so sorry. You must have misunderstood. I ordered my tea with half lemon...not half demon."
Word Count 500