I got the steak, medium rare. She got the shrimp pasta. Despite his harebrained mistake, he is still in no hurry. I ask him with a fake smile. He gives me a look and floats away toward the kitchen in a nearly visible fog.
Somebody removes our empty appetizer plate.
Another five minutes pass. Our waiter returns and delivers a familiar-looking plate of toasted bread surrounding three little bowls of toppings. He scoops up the bruschetta and wanders away again. Finally the meal arrives. The steak is thickly cut, juicy, tender and served in a velvety demiglace with brown mushrooms.