Tony got his second wind. He could hardly wait to finish up here and head home with Maxxie.
He rolled the specials off his tongue. He smiled so genuinely and so intelligently. You would have thought he was the chef who had inspired these dishes. He made it all sound so delish, and he pushed the soups that needed to go. In fact, he even thought he was splendid.
Of course, it didn't hurt to have Maxxie on his mind. And some how he could have been thinking of Maxxie's bum but he could make chicken sound so succulent. He thought the night might never be over.
"Are we done yet?" He snapped. Maxxie seemed to be the only one there getting dishes in the washer. Tony helped him with the last of it.
Finally he shown Maxxie the bottle of red wine the owner had given him.
"How on earth do you manage it?" Maxxie carried the bottle on the walk home in the dead of night.
"Quite simple actually, I just tell them what they want to hear, and it comes rather natural, after that." Tony was full of energy. He put his arm around Maxxie and grabbed the wine just to insure that it wouldn't be dropped. He was so ready to enjoy it with Maxxie.
Tony danced up the steps to the flat. All eager for their party. Just then, he saw the door was cracked open.
"Bugger!" Tony whispered. "We've visitor." He was none too pleased to that fact. "I thought you might have gotten new locks, mate."
"Really, Tony, I'm not a handy man." Maxxie told him.
Tony cauciously kicked the door open. Ready for anything. Only a cat's cry was heard instead.
"Interesting." Tony looked at Maxxie. "Just what we need. A cat."