“Good thing,” he continued, “there’s a piano here.”
“Hey,” she said, “When did they get a piano in this place?”
“And for that matter,” he answered, “When did our waiter start playing it?”
She saw that the waiter was playing a vamp. Smiling with delight, she said “OK, we might as well get started.”
“No use moping, broken hearted,” he let his voice glide into a melody.
She responded back in song. “We seem to be fictional, merely depictional,”
“Yet here we are, it’s very contradictional.” He rose from his chair.
“Why don’t we take a chance?” she smiled and stood up as well.
He held out one hand, “Darling, won’t you join me in a dance?”
They began to glide around the coffee shop in time to the piano music, both of them surprised to find they could dance together with an ease that usually comes only after long practice.
For the next few minutes they simply gave themselves over to the music, letting their bodies sway and glide together in time to the lilting beat.
Just as they were finishing their final twirl around the room, a man walked into the coffee shop. The waiter immediately took his hands from the keyboard, a sheepish look on his face. The man and woman stopped dancing and turned to face the door.
“Oh my god!” she said, “It’s you. What the hell are you doing here?”
The writer looked briefly at the waiter, who hurriedly excused himself and dashed back to the kitchen. The writer then turned his attention to the man and woman. “I could ask you two the same question.”