Dinner

Those who know me might say I’m a tad obsessive. If the truth be known they may be right. You know when you go out to dinner and someone at the table wipes the glasses and cutlery on the napkin? Well, that’s me. I’ve never been one for getting my hands dirty in the garden and only at a push do I go to the beach, can’t stand the sand.

Anyway this gives you an idea about my little quirks I will get on with my tale.

We had been invited for dinner to the home of an acquaintance. We had been once before for afternoon tea and we took the cake. It was a lovely, late spring evening you know one of those nights where you could smell the coming summer with a hint of wisteria on the breeze. As we headed towards the coast, the sun was setting in the western sky.

When we arrived we were greeted and shown through to the back where we sat under a vine-covered patio with an almost Mediterranean feel. The small garden table was adorned with pre-dinner drinks and nibbles, olives, cheese, crackers and dips, all very pleasant. As we chatted, I noticed that the male half of the couple was double dipping in the dip. Well to me, this was okay if you were alone in your own home. However, not what you would call good form when there were guests? As I gave the dip a wide birth I wondered what other habits we might be in store for.

My hunger had suddenly dissipated and I was becoming twitchy in my chair. As I looked around, trying to stay involved in the chit chat, I glanced at my other half and was given a reassuring smile, you know the one that says it’s okay, must have been a momentary slip of good manners. Though I love the face that gave me the smile, I was not filled with joy about the rest of the evening.

After awhile we were taken inside as the local insects were beginning to make their presence felt. Go in, sit down, proffered our hosts. She set about the last of the dinner preparations, he disappeared into another room so instead of sitting we stood around the bench and continued to chat as the food was served. An innocuous move one would think. As the seconds ticked by I quickly realised that I should have sat away from the kitchen, the old saying what the eye does not see the heart does not grieve was stabbing at my brain, like a sharp hot stick.

The cutting of the meat was regularly interspersed by her licking her fingers. Not a little lick followed by a quick hand wash, no, both the thumb and forefinger were placed well into the mouth and the lips smacked around them with no water in sight. My mouth fell open I could hardly breathe. Was I expected to eat this licked offering? After a time, but before the meat was ready, we were joined by him. He immediately pounced on the meat and began picking meat from both plates, moving it around as he chose choice pieces. Once again there was no sign of water, so the fingers were going from mouth to meat in quick succession.

I was beginning to feel quite ill; I may never eat again. My mind was racing, desperately thinking of any excuse to get me out of there. Then I hoped against hope my phone would ring, with some work emergency. Please ring, please ring. I put my hand into my pocket, to no avail the phone lay still, no familiar vibrations that signaled its existence. I had a sudden urge to wash my hands, maybe if I did it they might catch on. Not a good idea, I turned on the tap at the sink, washed them and turned back just as he opened the fridge. Holy Gods! As I gazed open-mouthed, I could see bowls of salad just sitting there, naked, no glad wrap or foil within a bulls roar. He indicated to different bowls; she answered yes, yes, yes, no as the salads were taken to the table.

I stood, looked pleadingly at my partner who was trying not to look at me for fear of saying something. Food placed on the table we  sat to eat. I bit down firmly on my tongue and said “wow, this looks great”, I wanted to add “shame I’m not hungry”.

Thankfully we all served ourselves. I put small piles onto my plate then proceeded to push it around until I had to actually put something in my mouth. As I did, my stomach turned and I almost gagged. As I ate and tried to chat, he finished and picked more food from the serving plates and put it into his mouth, this time with his fork.

By now I’d had enough and put my knife and fork on the plate. We sat while more food was consumed then dessert was announced. I had seen some meringues on the bench and wondered what would go with them. I did not have to wait very long before a bowl of cream and ice cream were put onto the bench, and maybe we would put our own toppings on. Well, that would have been a good thing but the thought disappeared and the hairs stood up on my neck when I saw her pick up a spoon with which she began to scoop the cream onto the meringues. 

When it stuck to the spoon, she pushed it off with her finger and of course it went straight into her mouth to be cleaned. I was having apoplexy by this time, every part of my being was ill and I could not even think of anything to say.

By the time the plates arrived adorned with the icecream and cream, I was beside myself. I declared myself to be full after two bites. We sat around the table chatting, I suggested we do the dishes, no, no we will do them later came the reply. The conversation went on… he left us to it and went to another room. I started to fidget in my chair. Finally my other half said well, we had better go, she had gotten the message after all.

We thanked her for a lovely evening; he was still nowhere to be seen. We piled into the car and set off, not a word was spoken on the way home. On our arrival I shot to the bathroom and cleaned my teeth. After I had decontaminated, I said “that is an experience I will not have again”, “I certainly agree with that” was the response.