Signing the Register

He didn’t do anything as tacky as signing in as Mr. and Mrs. Smith. Bernie signed in under his own name as I waited in the car. I don’t know why it bothered me tonight. We had been seeing each other at least once a week for about six months. I just felt different for some reason. I felt something strange was going to happen.





After he put his bags in the room, we went to the dinning room where we ordered prime rib with all the trimmings. A bottle of Merlot accompanied the meal. He ordered escargot. I looked at them and I went to myself yuck! Snails! As I sampled the deep musky Merlot the rich garlic odor kept bringing me back to look at the little silver tray in front of him. He took this tongs that looked like something from a midwife’s nightmare and held the shells while he picked out the meat with a small fork. I winced again as he lifted it too his mouth. Slugs! He tore off a hunk of steaming French bread and dipped into the butter, garlic and wine sauce and held it up to my lips. I opened. My God! This is delicious. Taking another big swig of Merlot – nothing delicate going on here – I closed my eyes and opened my mouth as he took that sharp little fork and pierced the snail and lifted it to my lips. The odor of garlic, wine, and butter was intense. The taste was even more divine than the soaked bread I had savored before.




Something strange truly had happened. The sensuous night turned into a lifetime of delight.




I now keep a can of escargot in my pantry and a bottle of Merlot is always ready.




My husband when I have a craving cannot understand it. He will say: Snails! Yuck!




I will just smile; remember Bernie, and my introduction to another realm of the senses.