"Charlatan!"
A weary-looking old man was flailing his arms about in the air as if possessed. The patrons in the quiet cafe turned to witness the fuss. Self-conscious grins fell across ordinary faces.
I was of the opinion that a cup of coffee in a rustic cafe in an out of the way rural place would offer me pause for a little introspective soul-searching.
But, no! Pandemonium in the outlands—that’s what seemed to be going on.
I rose from my secluded spot on the fringe and, through the throng, I laid eyes on the most gorgeous woman I’d ever seen. It took me a moment to realize that she was in a great deal of distress because her hair was a glowing auburn and her green eyes flashed in the most mesmerizing fashion. As I recall, it was difficult to focus on her problem; she was "that" distracting.
Naturally, being the grand urbane gentleman that I am, I was up and across the room in a flash.
I’ve always believed that men should treat women with respect; they should nurture and encourage them, especially if they are lovely. Obviously, I mean lovely inside and out.
I eyeballed the old man and held out my hand to her in a no-nonsense, inviting manner. Disbelief rang like a gong when she gingerly placed her long-fingered, smooth hands in mine.
It was a blissful moment.
Unfortunately, my out-of-this-world experience soon became a challenge as the crowd surged in favor of the old man and things looked as if belligerence might suffocate beauty.
Not to be outdone, the woman pulled me, willingly, to the door, and we were outside in the soft, flattering afternoon light without much ado.
I guess that’s when reality hit; I had no method in my madness that would save the day.
But she was special. Oh, that she was!
Who on earth has a horse tethered for transportation in this day and age, but that’s what she offered.
We were up and running in seconds, my friends—that’s all it took.
A heft and a shimmy
It goes without saying that she had a cave—a comfortable, all-amenities-in-the-middle-of-nowhere cave.
She alighted the trusty steed with stylish aplomb and dragged me into her cave.
I kid you not.
Then it got a little weird.
There was a fire on the hearth; it was rather cold, and the aroma of her perfume was debilitating. She offered a cup of coffee to ease our troubles. Then she proceeded to read the dregs like the fortune teller she professed herself to be:
"You’ve experienced a great loss," she whispered in my attendant ear. "You’ve found a formidable enemy and discovered how to conquer your fears."
I remember that I felt lightheaded as her magical words flowed soothingly from her luscious lips.
In the morning, I awoke to a cold and unpopulated cave.
I felt for my wallet and realized what she’d meant by her parting words.
