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Chet and Eliot had been running around all day. It had been hot. They were unshaved, and wearing shorts, T-shirts, and flip-flops. At about 6 p.m., they felt like eating something. They were on south Lake, which had several restaurants. Eliot suggested that they go to the Mediterranean restaurant. “The food is good and there’s lots of it,” he told Chet. It was refreshingly cool inside the restaurant. They were seated at a table near the front door.

Their waitress was a young, pretty blonde. Chet hit on her immediately. “Could I have you for dessert?” he asked, with a big grin on his face. She smiled, but said nothing. Chet told her that he was a famous heart surgeon, and if she didn’t give him her phone number, he would have to operate on his own broken heart. She smiled again. When she asked Chet and Eliot if they wanted appetizers, they both realized that English was her second language.

Chet asked her where she was from. She said she was from Russia. Chet told her that her English was very good. She thanked him. They had a delicious meal, and Chet left the waitress a big tip. She thanked him, but she still refused to give him her phone number. “I have husband,” she explained. “Yes, and he’s the luckiest man on Earth,” Chet told her. She smiled.

Outside the restaurant, Chet kidded Eliot. “You didn’t say a word in there to her. How do you expect to get anywhere with women if you don’t talk to them?” “I didn’t want to spoil your chances,” Eliot smiled.

Two months later, Eliot was substitute teaching for a US Citizenship class. When the class ended, one student lingered. It was the blonde waitress from the restaurant. She talked to him for about five minutes about George Washington. Sensing that she had something else on her mind, Eliot asked her to join him for a cup of coffee. She said she would love to.