Without doubt they were the most glamorous couple in the restaurant: he with his sharp blue eyes, carefully cropped hair and muscular frame, dressed in a suit of sangfroid; she with her long dark hair, flashing eyes and the simplest, most elegant red dress adorning her tanned and gluten-free body.
Their conversation was animated but cool, though, clearly, she wanted something which he was not prepared to concede.
“Last time was so fantastic.”
“I know.”
“Didn’t you enjoy it?”
“I loved it.”
“Then, why not again?”
“I have to leave early.”
“Oh, you are such a dull stick!”
“I think we both know that’s not true.”
“Anyone would think you were gay.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. It’s not as if you don’t know me.”
“I do wonder if you are over-sexed.”
“Not tonight, Josephine.”
“That’s not funny.”
They finished their dinner, paid and, when they reached the doorway, exchanged a long and lingering kiss.
As she walked away, he made to look at his phone; then, when she had rounded the corner, he slipped across the road.
Sitting at the bar was an Elizabethan noble with the skinhead lifestyle. Elegance without and fuck you attitude within.
He walked up and kissed him hard on the mouth.
“Have I missed you… “
“Shall we get out of here?”
“Can’t. Have to be up early.”
“Anyone would think you were a woman.”
*
“I am not sure I understand the story.”
“Oh? Is easy.”
“Really?”
“He kisses her off to be with his boyfriend and then his boyfriend kisses him off.”
“Are you sure? Isn’t he kissing his boyfriend off?”
“They are all confused.”
“Not as confused as me.”
“No, no. They don’t understand the difference between love and sex.”
“And what’s that?”
“An alarm clock and a cup of coffee. The alarm clock is sex. Coffee is love.”