"I've been rehearsing my reactions," Marmaduke Wales related,
catching the bartender's eye at the Wilderness of Monkeys Pub.
"Your
reactions?"
"My reactions. Here," he said, leaniing
forward
with a sudden smile. "What's this?"
"I'm
sure I don't know."
"I'm looking at you while you're telling a story,
letting
you know that you've made an interesting
point that I look forward to hearing more about.
Here.
Try again. How about this?"
"Someone just gave you a fresh warm slice
of German Chocolate cake?"
"Better.
But no. This is my reaction
when a friend of ours just happens
to
walk into the restaurant where you
and I are dining. I'm pleased to see
this
mutual acquaintance of ours but,
delighted though I may be, I am still eager
to
hear more of the fascinating story that
you've been telling. My reaction reassures
you.
It soothes you. It rewards you. It lets
you know that even if I have been momentarily
distracted,
you still have my devoted attention."
"That's something you practice?"
"An
unrehearsed reaction,"Marmaduke smiled,
swirling his spaghetti with a spoon, "is of
no
more use than extemporaneous affection.
Oh, a sudden kiss can be
pleasant; but the kiss
that's been planned for a day, for a week –
that's
the kiss for me."
