Thursday, August 4, 2016
Chantal was on hostess duty at Haven, and the joint was jumpin’. In fact, tables were at a premium tonight. Word of Rupert’s inventive desserts had gotten around. Just the thing to aid in post-scene cooldowns.
At the moment they only had one couple in the lobby, waiting for the next available table. Chantal hadn’t been paying much attention to them, until she heard …
“Oh, Lars. Lars.”
“I’ll love you until the universe falls into the sun.”
“I’ll love you until God crumples up creation and tosses it into the cosmic waste basket.”
“Let me lash my tongue all over your rippling biceps.”
“I want to bury my nose in your muff.”
“Then nuzzle me, you magnificent beast!”
“Fondle my thighs, you wanton temptress!”
“Suckle my nipples, you towering titan!”
“Polish my lance, you voluptuous vixen!”
“Drink from my cup, lusty stallion!”
“Sip from my straw, perky penguin!”
“Jump me, you kinky kangaroo!”
“Roll with me, you amorous Amazonian alligator!”
“Hey, that’s two adjectives. No fair.”
By now an intrigued and slightly nervous Chantal had left the desk to investigate. She found the “passionate lovers” demurely seated on the couch in the lobby, fully clothed and giggling up a storm. “Are you two okay?” she asked carefully.
“Oh yeah,” the woman managed to get out. She pounded her man on the back; he’d started to hiccup. “Is our table ready?”
“Not yet.” Chantal dashed back to the desk and poured a glass of water. She offered this to the gasping man. He gulped it down gratefully, gave one final hiccup, and smiled. “You mind me asking … ?” Chantal said.
“No, it’s fine,” the woman said. “We were getting bored waiting for a table, so we decided to play ‘World’s Worst.’ You know, that game from Whose Line is it Anyway? So we went for the world’s worst seduction scene.”
“Dialogue only, of course,” the man added. “We know the rules. No getting it on in the lobby.” He grinned down at his partner and winked. “Y’know, I don’t think we even need the club tonight. Why don’t we just go back to my place? We can grab takeout on the way.”
“You still have the pool table?”
He twirled an imaginary moustache. “But of course.”
She took his hand. “Then lead on, my feisty ferret.”
He stood, and guided her to her feet. “As you command, my precocious panda.” Hand in hand, they scurried out the door.
“Table for two,” one of the waiters called from inside the club proper.
“Never mind,” Chantal said. The waiter shrugged and withdrew.
She trudged back to the desk. Great. Not only had they lost a couple of customers, now she was horny. She sat with her thighs pressed tightly together. It was going to be a long evening.