Have you ever been in this situation?
The following passage is excerpted from the book I'm currently reading - The Archivist by Martha Cooley. Anyone ever been in this scenario? Déjà vu, even, maybe?
"Why?" I asked, unable to restrain myself.
"She was the first woman he loved. After his mother, of course. To such a person one tends to spilly everything."
I saw my opening. Standing, I pulled ten dollars from my wallet and handed the money to an approaching waitress.
"You have a charming notion of first love," I said to Roberta, easing my voice carefully through a narrow passage between condescension an flattery. I was by this time somewhat restored in confidence, but I had to press my advantage.
"Perhaps," Roberta said, obviously on guard.
I opened my palm to receive the change from our waitress and handed back a generous tip. The action achieve the desired effect. Roberta grew suddenly flustered.
"Wait. You just paid for breakfast - you weren't supposed to!"
"A small thing," I said. "Shall we?" I motioned toward the door.
She was struggling toward graciousness. "Thank you," she said at last, proceeding ahead of me. "Especially since I did all the eating."
"I hope you feel" - I searched for the right word as I held the door for her - "replete."
On the sidewalk she turned to me. " Yes," she said. "But unsatisfied."