La Traviata
Went to lunch at La Traviata today to Celebrate the addition of a New Man to the Institute. He was sent to us by the Provost's office to be the acting vice-boss, which was evidently a surprise to the vice-boss because when she introduced the New Man to us, her very false smile kept slipping into a look of extreme panic. The New Man is extremely attractive and it wasn't immediately clear to either the Contessa or me whether he was straight or gay (we emailed about it furiously under the guise of doing work,) which meant that he was up for grabs. We walked over to the restaurant together. The Contessa and I walked in front and the vice-boss walked with the New Man behind us, her voice an octave higher than it usually is. I almost felt sorry for her. Previously, the vice-boss had to collect her receipts and turn them in whereas in her new elevated position, all she has to do is go to La Traviata and sign the chits. The boss treated La Traviata as his private dining room, which the Contessa and I took full advantage of.
The Contessa said, I'll have the artichoke and celery salad (she's told me before that she dreams of this salad) and a bowl of the bread soup. I ordered a pasta. So did the New Man. The vice boss ordered a big San Pellegrino and a Whole Lemon. The Contessa and I excused ourselves to go to the bathroom. Evidence inconclusive, but the Contessa felt sure that the New Man was Straight. I disagreed. Tense, whispered discussion. Found in the bathroom that my hair was a disaster. It looked fluffy. The addition of water didn't help. Now it just looked like I'd gotten it wet. The Contessa looked like she'd gone a bit overboard in the bathroom too, re makeup and hair grooming.
When we got back to the table, the vice-boss said in a bright tone "your salad came so we ate it!" "we?" the Contessa asked. "The New Man and I shared it!" The New Man had a dazed look, as though he'd been tricked into something, which he had. This put a pall on the rest of the meal.
"She ate my salad." The contessa repeated, back at the office, shaking her head. "Who does that?" Vice-boss's bad behavior the subject of discussion for the rest of the afternoon.
The Contessa said, I'll have the artichoke and celery salad (she's told me before that she dreams of this salad) and a bowl of the bread soup. I ordered a pasta. So did the New Man. The vice boss ordered a big San Pellegrino and a Whole Lemon. The Contessa and I excused ourselves to go to the bathroom. Evidence inconclusive, but the Contessa felt sure that the New Man was Straight. I disagreed. Tense, whispered discussion. Found in the bathroom that my hair was a disaster. It looked fluffy. The addition of water didn't help. Now it just looked like I'd gotten it wet. The Contessa looked like she'd gone a bit overboard in the bathroom too, re makeup and hair grooming.
When we got back to the table, the vice-boss said in a bright tone "your salad came so we ate it!" "we?" the Contessa asked. "The New Man and I shared it!" The New Man had a dazed look, as though he'd been tricked into something, which he had. This put a pall on the rest of the meal.
"She ate my salad." The contessa repeated, back at the office, shaking her head. "Who does that?" Vice-boss's bad behavior the subject of discussion for the rest of the afternoon.
posted by thirty-year-old secretary at 4:10 PM
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