Yesterday, I had a check-up with my oncologist (and before you associate the title of this post with anything that may have happened in the dr.'s office, I assure you he is still alive, having wisely neglected to recommend hormones to me again...though there was still a Bass Pro magazine in the exam room).
My dr. is located in a major hospital in downtown Nashville and so after my appointments, my hubby always takes me to lunch as compensation for enduring the latest search and siezure masquerading as a pap smear in an oncologist's office.
This time we ate at Logan's.
Our waiter was an extremely friendly young man (pulled up a chair and sat right at the table with us while taking our order) who made consistent eye contact with my hubby and not with me. As I had practiced personal hygiene and wasn't feeling particularly homicidal, despite my recent experience, I had no explanation for this.
Of course my hubby's charms cannot be underestimated...
Our waiter was an excellent server who checked on our table frequently, always asking my hubby if everything was fine. It's not that he deliberately ignored me. He always said, "You folks okay?" which clearly includes both parties at the table. It's that he always looked into my hubby's eyes as he asked.
Of course my hubby has beautiful green eyes...
Near the end of our meal, he swung by our table one more time and asked my hubby if he needed another Diet Coke. My hubby said yes and then, as the waiter hurried off to fetch it for him, turned to me with a look of embarassed horror on his face and said,
"I just winked at him."
My hubby doesn't even wink at me. What's he doing winking at our waiter?
"It was an accident." He says.
"How do you accidentally wink at someone?" I ask and collapse into laughter, nearly choking on my hamburger in the process. "Especially someone who so clearly finds you the most fascinating person in the room!"
"It must be Tourrettes." He tells me, not a shred of humor on his face. "Late-onset adult Tourrettes. There's no other explanation."
Of course. Makes perfect sense.
The waiter returned with my hubby's Diet Coke and I watched in some amazement as my usually calm, cool hubby used his fingers to pin both sets of eyelashes to his brow.
He didn't wink.
He did cause several diners to give him strange looks.
But he didn't wink.
I laughed until I cried. It's the first time I've ever had my sense of humor so quickly restored after a visit with the oncologist.