Lunch At La Coupole

Carol sat patiently at Table 4, just in front of the window. It was her favourite place; there was always so much to see, so many stories that unfolded all around her. La Coupole, although expensive, was the only restaurant in Paris worth frequenting, and Carol knew every waiter, valet, chef and manager that had somehow been connected to it during the past 23 years!

“Excuse me, ma’am, would you like me to remove this place?”

Carol swivels her head like an owl from the couple outside to this waiter. “You’re new.”

“I am, ma’am, I started here last week. Is that a problem?”

“And you’re English?”

The waiter becomes slightly edgy. “Yes, ma’am. I’m working here while I’m on my gap year from college.”

“Oh, eh bien, ce n’est pas un problème, tant que vous pouvez prendre une commande!”

The waiter looks confused. “Uh, oui, mademoiselle, je peux être votre commande.”

Carol smiles at him-it is obvious he cannot speak much French. “Young man, I am very glad you can be my orderly, however, I asked if you can take an order!”

The waiter, embarrassed, fiddles with his jacket. “Sorry, ma’am, I can.”

“I’ll have the creamed spinach with a poached egg. And a dry Martini, two olives. Merci.”

“Yes, ma’am. Did you want me to take this place away?” He indicates the place set opposite her, which is empty. Suddenly, Carol explodes. “Don’t be so inconsiderate, boy! You do not remove a customer’s plate before they have finished eating!”

“Are you waiting for someone, ma’am?”

“Waiting? Don’t be ridiculous! He is here. My husband. My husband is here; we always have lunch at La Coupole!”

During the commotion, the manager, having heard the problem from a customer, pulled the young waiter from Carol, while several older employees calmed Carol down.

“What’s that all about?” asked the waiter, half-chuckling.

The manager was serious, “You mustn’t joke. Carol has become a dear friend of ours. She lost her husband two years ago-a car crash, right outside the door. Ever since, she hasn’t ever seemed to acknowledge that he isn’t with her any more.”

“Why don’t you tell her?”
“Everywhere she goes, she is ‘Poor Thing’ or ‘The Widow’. In here, she is Carol. Just Carol. And that’s how it is going to stay!”

Author's Note

Feel free to let me know if I got any of the French wrong; I don't speak it very well!