A beautiful young woman, jittery as a kitten, sat in the dining room of The Weeping Mandolin Restaurant waiting for her blind-date’s arrival.
Anxious, the gal’s facial expression was overcome with a doe-eyed look as she continued to fidgetwith the contents of her capacious purse. Suddenly she stopped and began to fold and unfold the same cloth napkin while trying hard not to allow her elbows to touch the table. Thirty minutes later handsome Harry roistered into the restaurant’s lobby arm-in-arm with a much younger babe wearing a gaudy strapless dress. Was it him? No, it couldn’t be him! That would be such a low blow to any genuine woman’s ego. His explanation, a witty remark blaming his secretary for the date night mix-up.
Ugh!
Feelings of exasperation overwhelmed her yet she proceeded to exit the restaurant in a lady-like manner.
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