Buying olives

I bought black olive and green olive tapenade along with caviar de tomate as well as two different kinds of olives from Joel at the marché. He is Hollywood-handsome with flashing black eyes and dark curly hair. He put it in a small container side-by-side making what looked like a flag. I am buying local delicacies for a friend that is coming to visit.

Joel also has created three perfumes from local flowers. He is a wheeler-dealer and a flirt.

“What is the grand total?” I asked in French.

“You win a night with me,” he said.

The people waiting in line behind me stepped closer to listen.

I clasped my hands to my breasts. “My lucky day. What have I done to deserve this?”

“I’m not sure, but it must have been wonderful,” he said.

Naturally nothing will happen. Joel will spend tonight with his new twin daughters. I will spend the night trying to learn a new piece of software, but buying olives certainly is much more fun this way than merely picking up a jar in a supermarket. And the taste is superior.