The clock struck 6, and like every day in the past two weeks, the well-dressed young man with ruffled hair, walked into the restaurant and headed straight to the bar.
The bartender was already reaching for the bottle.
The young man gulped down the contents. He shuddered and ran his hand through his hair. “One more”.
The bartender had the glass ready. He slid it across, and in jest asked, “So should I keep a bottle of champagne ready?”
The young man didn’t speak, but his hand sneaked into his trousers’ left pocket and caressed the velvet box inside.
“Show it to me again” the waitress walked over.
Wordlessly the youth took the box out and flipped open the top. The radiant gem sparkled with vivacity for its enraptured audience.
“Wow!” the waitress sucked in her breath wistfully. “She’s one lucky girl!”
The bartender laughed, “Well she would be if he ever worked up the nerve to ask her”.
“We met here…”the youth spoke convulsively and in small bursts. “A common friend’s birthday…I couldn’t take my eyes off her…three years we have been going out…I thought maybe…”His voice trailed off with the despair of his nervousness.
The bartender felt sorry for his young patron, and with a paternal air said, “C’mon, just ask her today. You love each other and it will all work out”.
“Nerves. I have always suffered from it” the youth spoke again. “I would freeze whenever they sent me to the front of the class…well it’s too late now…she was there yesterday…at the metro station…if only I had asked sooner….”
In memory of the victims of Brussels and Turkey attacks.