The Observation of Fernando J Max (or) Three Credit Cards

4 Jun

Three credit cards. None of them work.

Grace and I are amused by the… peril, the couple at the counter now face. There seems to be a problem with their cards, they are told. But really, I think they had no money to begin with. Look at his shoes. Look at her zirconium. Look at the poor fools trying to pay for services rendered with a personal check.

Grace giggles softly. “Do you remember?” she asks

“I’ve been trying to forget, actually.”

Why do people feel compelled to live beyond their means? Surely there must be some mom and pops establishment nearby that they could’ve gone to. It wouldn’t be a Honey Pot of course, but… if you can’t buy honey, there’s no harm settling for cane.

Before frequenting here, Grace and I ventured into a cosy little bed and breakfast type. The rates were reasonable. The service was above board. People said, “good morning” and they were actually appreciative of your business. And I never felt the need to slap the hostess… owner… hostess… whatever they’re called now. I digress, but the point is, there are ACTUAL places that afford customers a decent enough menu, based on what they could afford. No need to come here and embarrass oneself. Especially after you have had your belly full. Or is that ‘filled’?

“Fernando, sometimes, people just want to splurge.” Grace whispered through the giggling.

“Yes but splurging first demands savings, darling.” I could tell by Grace’s groaning that I had most definitely entered teacher mode.

“Or it could simply mean throwing care to the wind. And doing what you want.”
“I did throw Care to the wind. She was quite ambidextrous.”

“A gymnast I believe.”

We burst into uncontrollable laughter, causing the entire lobby to turn and stare. The couple seemed to jolt. They wore their shame like badly sewn underwear. I can tell they were still trying to negotiate their way out of this cock up.

“You think they’ll make them do the dishes?” I asked, more to myself that Grace.

“Maybe they’ll do more. She does have a nice figure. He’s not too bad looking either.”

“You want them?”

Grace shot me that look, took the keys from the counter, grabbed her carry on and headed upstairs.

I chuckled at the couple. I couldn’t blame them really. The platter here is excellent. I can see why they would risk the embarrassment.

So I walked on over and with a knowing smile, paid their bill. After all, it seemed the religious thing to do.

By Tracy J Hutchings

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