(Continued from March 01, 2010)
After I had expressed my delight about having been invited to the soiree, we continued with some lighthearted conversation. There was no barrage of questions relating to my personal life. Obviously, aunt Dorothy was much too classy a lady to give in to such a despicable practice. She realized that, within the next days, her niece would voluntarily furnish her with innumerable details about me. Thea’s happy demeanor had tipped her off.
An unusual rhythmic clicking-sound made everyone’s gaze turn to where the Mini was parked. The bodyguard had brought in reinforcement in the form of a small robot. The technically very advanced contraption was heading toward Alphonse’s compact vehicle, guided by the guard’s remote control.
Alphonse was most thoroughly affected by the sudden appearance of the device. He had evidently been totally in his element while chatting with the ladies. A causal onlooker might have commented: “Nothing can make that young fellow discontinue his causerie.” I would have been the only person, on the estate, in a position to call that statement into question. I had previously experienced my young friend’s unconditional love for advanced technology.
“I don’t believe this!” Alphonse cried excitedly. “The party proper hasn’t started yet and I am already having the time of my life. Surrounded by beautiful ladies, I am privileged to be witness to an unusual security demonstration.” Then, turning to me he joked: “Did you, somehow or other, tie that bag onto my bumper to provide me with this great thrill?” Not waiting for my answer, he concluded poetically: “Can anything increase the delight of this moment?”
“Turn around and feast your eyes on what is approaching us,” I said, pleased that circumstances had furnished me with an appropriate one-liner. In fact, a girl dressed in a fancy white blouse, a knee-high black skirt and dark purple stockings had almost reached us. She was carrying a large platter, containing a bottle of Champaign, high-stemmed glasses and an assortment of appetizers.
Later, when we happened to visit the washroom at the same time, Alphonse confided: “The setting, the girls, the robot, the Champaign—all that made me believe that we had suddenly been placed in a scene for a movie.”
Aunt Dorothy was not going to take any chances with the Champaign bottle’s possible idiosyncrasies. She motioned to the server to hand it to Alphonse while she remarked: “There is no ceiling here, so you can let the cork fly as high as it wants to go. And, please, fill your friend’s glass first.”
(To be continued)