Sleeping the Clock Around

"Looks like we both got stood up, heh?" Her hand was awkwardly and half heartedly gesturing towards the menu and empty chair tucked under the table across from me. She was cocking her hip, shifting her weight as if saying "want me to sit here?" In fact that's what the expression on her face said too. But her symbolic motion became the effigy of one when it became clear I wasn't going to ask her to sit.

"It was that way when I sat down." Her half smile faded and she looked confused, I had broken the social script.

"Sorry," said she. I said nothing. She got the idea and walked away.

The ice in my guest-not-to-be's glass had already melted. A lopsided ring of condensation circled the glass. I *had* been stood up, but be-damned if I was going to let her sit down. She was a real tusker.