Yes, your honor. I’ll be happy to explain to the court what happened.
February 14, 2001, was our first Valentines together. And being the romantic that I am, I reasoned that all the restaurants would be full that day, so we should do something simple for a V-Day dinner, and go to someplace fancier on a different night when it would be less crowded.
Yes, your honor. She did willingly agree to go along with the plan. And with that logic, that is how we ended up eating at Burger King.
When the court stops laughing, may I remind them that I am a witness here today, to testify about what I saw – not to stand trial for my own foolish actions?
Thank you, your honor. We had ordered our meal, and were two of three people dining in the restaurant that evening. We were engaged in conversation, and barely noticed as another couple entered through the front doors and drifted toward the counter, where they stopped and studied the menu, carefully weighing their own dining options.
A few minutes later, two young ladies came in the same front door of the restaurant. One of them recognized the young man. I do not recall the exact conversation, but the best I can remember, it went like this: She called his name – loud enough so the entire restaurant had her attention. She hurried up to his side, all the while loudly saying, “I thought I recognized you!” She had now reached the vicinity of his immediate person, set her hand on his shoulder. Though she was well within a range that he could hear her in normal volume, she increased her volume yet again, and continued, “YOU LOUSY NO-GOOD TWO-TIMING CHEATING” and then continued the rant using words that, as a religious man, I am uncomfortable repeating.
Her speech continued at full volume, as she called him many names that would make a sailor blush. One of the things that she mentioned that stood out to me was “…AND I HAVE TO FIND OUT ON VALENTINES DAY THAT YOU…” Neither the young man, nor the young woman who had accompanied him to the restaurant, seemed surprised by any of this. They knowingly looked at each other, and began walking, arm in arm, back through the restaurant and out the front door. The vocal girl followed one step behind them, continuing to yell loudly her complaint. The other young lady, who had accompanied Miss Conversationalist into the restaurant, was somewhat embarrassed by all of this. She had stayed standing by the doors, and looked like as the parties exited that she would take the roll of trying to mediate the situation – perhaps make sure that no one would become injured, and unsuccessfully attempt to calm down her bigmouthed friend.
Immediately after their departure from the building, everyone – staff and diners – was stunned silent. After a few seconds, I turned toward the counter, and called out with a loud voice so that all could hear, “I think they will have their order to go.” That ice-breaking comment brought smiles to all, and everyone resumed their previous actions.
There was one more interesting piece to this story. Several minutes later (at least five, perhaps closer to ten), the broken-hearted sweetheart returned. She poked her head in the doors, and called again in a loud, but more mellowed voice, “Hey everyone. I wanted to apologize. I’m sorry,” she said. After a brief pause, she continued, “THAT MY EX-BOYFRIEND IS A TWO-TIMING SNAKE…” and continued with a rant similar to the one already demonstrated. Her friend reappeared, embarrassed again, and pulled her out the door to take her to safety.
And that, your honor, was the memorable experience we had on our first Valentines date. Ah, amour!