“I can live for two months on a good compliment.” ~Mark Twain
There is a small Mexican restaurant located in a strip mall somewhere in Pine Bluff, Arkansas called “El” something or other (I could ask or look it up but I do not feel so inclined.).
The food is lovely. Authentic. Not Tex-Mex. The colors are bright. The staff is very friendly and glad to greet each guest come to dine. And… there are more varieties of Patrón on the counter at the bar than I have ever seen in one place before.
A waiter there thinks I am beautiful.
He said so… to my cousin as she paid and I was walking through the door.
“She is beautiful,” he said once with a nod in my direction and then, with a bit more urgency as if to emphasize his point, “She is BEAUTIFUL!”
My cousin inquired if I heard the compliment as we neared the car. I had not. I really was not too far out of earshot… not at all considering how acute my hearing.
I think, in truth, I simply wasn’t listening.