Do you see that guy behind the Blue Plate and the bread basket? A real loud talker, that one, as my beau pointed out halfway through our meal. Oh, did I mention that I have a beau? No, I don't think I did. Well, more on that later...Anyway, Mr. Loud Talker was obviously trying to impress his date, who, since you can't really see her in the photo, could best be described as a Jersey Shore hopeful with a skirt shorter than the length of her stilettos. Come to think of it, LT was probably just grandstanding for everyone else in the restaurant, quick as he was to interrupt poor Snooki and her nasally, like, you know, totally vapid omg "my dadday does that" commentary with his boisterous pretending to be his daddy bullshit opinions on politics, civil unions, sports and the Illuminati of Beer. The poor girl was daft enough to even giggle and nod when we all heard LT attest, "I've done some really shady things and some stuff with women, you know, but I'm not like that..."
I find it ironic that my beau and I were the ones acting like the 20-somethings in our corner booth, attempting to hide our incredulous laughter at the ridiculous display from the next table and unabashedly holding hands and kissing in between giggles. When the hilarity subsided, we looked at each other knowingly, grateful for the wisdom of experience and the intimacy we shared in the unspoken truth of our gaze. When we gazed upon each other again later and articulated that truth in private, it spoke volumes that neither of us would've wanted another soul to hear - least of all LT and Snooki or anyone else in that restaurant. Such is the intensity and sacredness that age knows of love.
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