The Dinner Date

The other evening, I was fortunate enough to garner a dinner engagement with a lovely woman whose name I cannot reveal in this text as a matter of discretion. We had arranged to meet at a charming, if Bohemian, bistro near the marina. I arrived fifteen minutes ahead of the appointed time, requested a table with a view of the sea lions, took a seat facing the door, and had the young man bring a bottle of water and the wine list. When my companion for the evening arrived, I stood, complimented her attire, and deftly slid her chair back for her to sit.

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