Giving and receiving Twas the night before Christmas and all throughout the restaurant the decorations were hung with care. I punched in on the time clock, downed a cup of espresso, took a handful of vitamins, and began to serve up the holiday cheer. It was your typical holiday crowd. A sea of once a year clothes: Christmas tree light necklaces, holiday ornament earrings, Santa caps and ugly sweaters. A crowd punctuated by poor fashion decisions. In the service industry Christmas Eve just means another long late night shift. I felt a pang of relief when the couple sat at the end of the bar. Ordinary clothes and ordinary appearance. A welcome relief in a sea of heightened expectations. Normal in respect to behavior, but odd in respect to compatibility. She was beautiful in that skinny model in jeans and a tank top look that seems to grace so many women's magazines, but perhaps a decade or so removed. He was similarly beautiful, almost too similarly, in an almost feminine way, accessorized right down to his manicured hands. At first I took them to be friends, but by their lack of conversation I soon realized that they were a couple, a married couple. Two of the same cocktails, two of the same appetizers followed by two of the same salads and even I was getting bored with these two. Duty called me down to the far end of the bar and when I returned a single gentleman had taken a seat next to the late model wife. "Gimme a Scotch and a beer," he said gruffly When you've done this job long enough you begin to sense trouble brewing. I immediately sensed that this new arrival was the exact opposite of the woman's husband. And opposites have a tendency to repel each other. It seemed like the wife also reached my conclusion. There were a couple of inappropriate attempts at convivial conversation ending with briefly awkward silences only to start again. It almost appeared as if the wife was enjoying the interactions. The man bragged about the girls he was dating, even showing pictures on his cell phone to the wife's interest and the husbands disinterest. "She had the gold digger overhaul," said the man about an ex. "Nose job, boob job and vaginal reconstruction," he said brusquely. I braced for a sudden end to the conversation. Instead they ordered several rounds of drinks, reassuring me that they were all taking cabs home. Soon enough the wife was spending most of her time talking to the arrogant man and less time speaking to her husband. I prepared for confrontation. Instead, the husband seemed content to text on his own cell phone. The conversation turning suggestive. Mr. Arrogant mentioned his ex girlfriend's tattoos. "I have one," said the Wife. The man leaned in close, and the Wife and he shared a private laugh. The Husband continued to text. "Tequilas all around," said the Mr. Arrogant. Three premium anjeos later… "I've had enough," said the Husband rising. I wasn't sure exactly what he had had enough of, but I took my apron off and moved over closer, just in case. Call me a cab," he said to me. "I'm going home," he said without judgment. The Wife looked at him, and then at her new tequila-drinking buddy. "I think I'm going to stay a while," she said after a slight pause. "Suit yourself," said the Husband, wrapping his perfectly coordinated scarf around his neck. I checked on the husbands cab and bid him a good night at the door. When I returned the Wife was leaning forward over the bar showing the arrogant man her tattoo. It was far enough down her lower back that she had unbuttoned her jeans and moved them down. So much for subtlety. The next hour saw another round of tequila and some more whispering. Eventually it came time to leave. I called another cab and the two ambled out the door. I watched the cab drive away sometime later. Still later the valet came in to trade in his small change for larger bills. I mentioned the couple and he laughed. "They are still in the parking lot," he said. "What do you mean?" I said. "I called them a cab." "Well it looks to me like they are giving his Range Rover's springs a workout," he said laughing. About a half an hour later, Mr. Arrogant reappeared at the bar, the slightly disheveled Wife hanging back near the front door. "Can you call me another cab," he said. "Happy Holidays," I called after him when the cab arrived. He turned to face me. "I do love the holidays," he said before heading out the door. As I stood at the door and listened to "These Are Few of My Favorite Things," playing over the speakers I had four thoughts. 1. It might be better to give than to receive, but sometimes it is possible to do both at the same time. 2. Drinking and driving is really stupid, but it is especially stupid during the holidays. Always take a cab. 3. There is a saying that suggests that you shouldn't take sand to the beach. But a better saying is that under no circumstances should you ever leave your sand at the beach. 4. Similars might marry, but opposites still attract.