Chapter 32

On November 4, 1979, Iranian militants stormed the U.S. Embassy in Tehran. My family spent a tense night at the Coulter house, watching satellite TV and the local news. Everyone in the U.S. seemed to be furious at the Iranians, and with good reason; they were holding U.S. citizens hostage.

In addition, my life turned into a minor hell. Gina’s life was worse, but that was the problem. Because of her complexion, she took a lot of abuse. No one seemed to care that she wasn’t Iranian. No one seemed to care that she wasn’t even Middle Eastern. She was as American as I was, but the color of her skin made her stand out.

She tried to be philosophical about it, but I could tell that it really hurt her feelings. Heather, Shannon, Scott, and I were as supportive as possible, but Gina was still miserable. We spent Monday night on the couch, watching TV with Scott and Shannon. The whole time, Gina seemed distracted and melancholy.

Who could blame her?

Leah was in a funk too, for exactly the same reason Gina was. My emotions were simmering, but I knew it was worse for the two of them. Not only were they angry and worried about the American hostages, but they had to deal with bigotry and hatred closer to home.

The Tuesday after the hostages were taken, I got in a minor scuffle when someone shoved Gina into her locker. I didn’t even know the guy, but I pushed him so hard that the lockers on the other side of the hall boomed when he slammed into them.

When I turned to Gina, she was trying to choose between being angry with me for my overreaction or grateful for my support. I put my arm around her, glared at the guy I’d shoved into the lockers, and we headed off to class.

Later that same day, three guys asked me why I was dating a “filthy Iranian whore.” As calmly as I could, I told them she was Indian, not Iranian. They didn’t seem to care. They told me they’d “kill that worthless cunt” if they had the chance. At that point, I lost my temper and hit the ringleader. Hard. He went down and then I rounded on his two friends.

Coach Nagle, the basketball coach, broke up the ensuing scuffle, but we all ended up in the vice-principal’s office. We each got three days of detention. When I had to explain to Coach Simmons that I’d be late to wrestling practice, he nearly bit my head off.

From that point on, things only got worse.

Becky Leonardi started it, but Tony Malone and I finished it. Becky and Amy had tried to stir up trouble for Gina when school first began, but they hadn’t really succeeded. With tensions running as high as they were because of the hostage crisis, it seemed like our school was a ticking bomb.

That Friday night, at the school football game, Becky “accidentally” spilled Coke on Gina. Then she and Amy had the nerve to stand back and laugh about it. Scott and Shannon tried to drag me away, but I’d had all I was going to take from Becky Leonardi. As I stalked toward her, Tony made the mistake of getting in my way. He told me to take my “little Iranian slut” and get lost. Three of his friends stepped up behind him.

I was ready to take on all four of them, but after my detention and the ass-chewings from both my father and Coach Simmons, I didn’t want to get in another fight. For a moment, I simply glared at Tony, seething with fury. But he’d found his courage—somewhere—and he wasn’t backing down.

We glared at each other for a long, hate-filled moment. I wanted to smash the smug expression off his face. But I also wanted to stay on the wrestling team and not go to jail. With a contemptuous snort, I turned and started walking back toward Gina, Scott, and Shannon.

That’s when Tony shoved me from behind and called me a pussy. I was bound and determined not to get into another fight, I told myself. Without looking back, I kept walking. When he shoved me again and told me to go back to my whore, I whirled, furious. My vision focused on him, and the world seemed to narrow. My voice was deadly calm as I told him not to say another word about Gina.

Instead of backing down, he swung at me. I think he actually hit me, but I honestly don’t remember. I certainly didn’t feel it. All I remember is grabbing his wrist, twisting his arm behind him, and running him full-speed into a chain-link fence. From behind, I hitched up his arm, painfully, my face only inches from his ear.

“If you ever talk about her like that again,” I fumed, “I’ll rip your arm off and beat you to death with it.”

“Fuck you, asshole,” he said. Then he tried to twist loose.

When he did, I heard a pop and he started screaming his head off. I let him go and he sagged bonelessly to the ground, still screaming in pain. Becky glared at me murderously, but no one made a move toward me. I don’t know what they saw in my eyes, but it stopped them in their tracks.

Incongruously, the football game was still going on, the sound of the announcer blaring in the background. Around me, there was a ring of students, inevitably drawn to the fight. The three guys who’d originally stood with Tony tried to look as inconspicuous as possible. I looked each of them in the eye, silently daring them to come at me. In turn, they each looked down and shuffled nervously.

“She’s not Iranian, you fucking idiots,” I said to the crowd in general. “She’s American.”

About that time, the security guard showed up. Then someone called the police. Tony was still moaning in pain, so they called an ambulance. While the police questioned me, the medics treated Tony; he had a dislocated shoulder and a broken wrist.

I don’t remember breaking his wrist, but I figured he deserved it.

Becky told the police I just attacked Tony, unprovoked. To my surprise, when the officer questioned Amy, she told him the truth. Gina, Scott, and Shannon told the same story: I faced four to one odds, and Tony hit me first.

After talking to several other witnesses who corroborated my story, the policeman came back and told me how lucky I was. Since Tony hit me first, and I still tried to walk away, it was clearly self-defense. Another “mitigating factor,” the officer said, was that three other guys had been with Tony.

About that time, my parents showed up. My dad talked to the police while Mom made sure I was all right. I was sitting in the police car with the door open, but I wasn’t under arrest.

That weekend, I wasn’t exactly grounded, but I couldn’t leave the house. In addition, practically everyone I knew called me. I was amazed at how fast the news spread, and how distorted most of it was. Some people heard I’d broken all the bones in Tony’s hand. Others heard I’d ripped his arm completely out of its socket. And a few even heard I put him in a coma. Mom finally took the phone off the hook, tired of its incessant ringing.

I got the expected lecture from my parents. And on Monday morning, I was summoned to the vice-principal’s office. Tony was there as well, looking sullen. His face had a big bruise from the fence, his arm was in a sling, and his wrist was in a cast. I planned to apologize to him, but when he saw me, he practically snarled.

“Suit yourself,” I said, taking the seat on the other side of the door.

Since the fight was actually on school property, the vice-principal had to punish us. For starting it, Tony was suspended for three days. I was given three days of in-school suspension. So while Tony would be out of school completely—and would receive failing grades for any homework, quizzes, or tests he missed—I would be in a room by myself, doing all my assignments.

That afternoon, Coach Simmons called me into his office before practice even started. With a gesture, he commanded me to shut the door. Then he told me to sit down.

“I don’t want to know who started it,” he said. “I don’t care.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Fighting is unacceptable, son.” He paused to let that sink in. “I try to teach you boys control and discipline, both on the mat and off. Now, I understand schoolyard politics, but you’ve got to use your head, son, even when the other boy hits you first.”

So he does know what happened! I thought.

“No one wins a fistfight. And I have no room on my team for someone who can’t keep his temper under control. Do I make myself clear, son?”

“Yes, sir.”

Then he regarded me levelly. Finally, he said, “You’ll practice with the rest of the team, but you’re suspended for the first two meets. Eric Greene will take your place on the varsity squad and we’ll forfeit his JV matches.”

I knew better than to protest.

“Now,” he said, his face inscrutable, “get out there and warm up. And you’d better practice as hard as usual. If you slack off one bit, you’re off the team. Got it?”

“Yes, sir.”

“You can go.”

Before I walked out the door, I turned to him, my chest tight. “Coach?”

“Yes?”

“I ... I’m sorry.”

“I know you are, son. Just keep your nose clean. You’ll be all right.” Before I could turn to go, he stopped me with a gesture. “This Iranian business is bad all around. But that’s no reason to pick on an innocent girl,” he said. Then he turned serious. “How’s your girlfriend?”

“She’s all right, sir,” I said. “No one’s bothered her since ... well ... since the other night.”

He chuckled darkly. “No, I suspect they wouldn’t.” Then his face turned hard again. “Go on, now. Get warmed up.”

With a nod, I headed toward the locker room.

Later that week, Gina and I made the trip to Knoxville with the Paytons, for the Notre Dame game. Most of the furor over my fight had died down, but we were still happy to get out of town. About an hour north of Atlanta, Gina’s mood brightened. I think she was excited about seeing Kendall, but she was also relieved to get away from school and all its problems.

Since Kendall’s roommate didn’t go home for the weekend, we couldn’t spend the night in her room, but we had fun nonetheless. When Kendall’s suitemate Toni saw me, her eyes widened and she giggled. Then she whispered to her roommate, Bridget. To my embarrassment, Bridget’s eyes widened as well.

“I think you made an impression,” Kendall teased.

After the football game, Gina and I got to spend some time alone with Kendall, but we didn’t have sex. Mostly, we talked about school. Kendall enjoyed her classes, and for the first time, she was being challenged by her professors. Gina and I talked about our classes as well, but the difference between college and high school made our courses seem tame.

Gina wasn’t feeling very well, so she headed back to the camper. She insisted that I stay and spend some time with Kendall. Once we were alone, Kendall seemed happy, very different from the girl who wrote me letters each week. In her letters, she wasn’t exactly miserable, but she did sound lonely. She didn’t say she still had trouble making friends, but I knew.

Most of the guys who asked her out were “frat rats,” who only had one thing on their minds. “Two, actually,” she had joked in one letter. “I think I’m going to name my tits Tallulah and Betty, so I can actually tell the guys who they’re talking to.”

Sometimes she wrote me three letters a week. When she was busy, I’d get a monogrammed card telling me how much she loved me and how much she missed me. I wrote her as often as I could, at least once a week. I told her about school, wrestling, friends, and things I couldn’t tell Gina.

In our letters, we got to know each other even better. As I learned more about her life, I got to see inside her head and feel some of her insecurities and yearning for friendship. She had friends, but none of them were very close. Not like me, at least. And while she had gone on a few dates, she didn’t go out with any guy more than twice. For one reason or another, they didn’t appeal to her.

In person, she was as warm and loving as ever, the loneliness banished for a time. I knew how isolated she felt, and I was determined to make her feel like she was a part of something. So we spent our time together simply lying on her bed, my arm around her.

All too soon, though, I had to meet Gina and the Paytons. Kendall wiped her cheeks, kissed me, and then we walked hand-in-hand to the stadium parking lot.

Susan flew in for Thanksgiving. Since Kirk didn’t think he could make it home from Annapolis and Doug was studying for exams, she accepted our invitation to come to Atlanta.

The day before Thanksgiving, Doug decided he could study at our house as well as he could at school, so he flew in from Houston. Kirk hitched a ride to Atlanta on a Navy ferry flight bound for Pensacola, and arrived late Wednesday evening. Susan was overjoyed to see them.

The Coulters ate Thanksgiving dinner at our house, so we had an enjoyable day of family, food, floats, and football. Over the long weekend, Susan and I didn’t get to spend as much time alone together as we would have liked, but we did manage to get together twice.

The first time was late Thursday night. My bedroom door quietly opened and then shut. When Susan gently shook me, I popped my eyes open, startling her, and then pulled her to me. It was exciting making love to her in my own bed, and I think she felt it too. Finally, in the early morning hours, she got up, kissed me, and went back to the guest bedroom.

The second time was Friday. Elizabeth and my mom were shopping with Erin and Leah. Kirk, Doug, and Kara (who had also come home for Thanksgiving) wanted to go see a movie. They invited Gina and me, but we declined. Dad and Chris were working on a project at our house—a barbecue grill made out of a 55-gallon steel drum—so Gina and I offered to show Susan the Coulters’ house. It was pure pretext, but I’m sure Gina’s and my parents understood what was really going on.

At Gina’s house, we started the hot tub. It was about twenty feet from the back porch, surrounded by a high privacy hedge and trellises. From the house, you could only see the steps up to the deck surrounding the tub. After Gina took off the cover and turned on the jets, we gave Susan a tour of the house. Before long, however, we headed out to the secluded tub, took off our clothes, and eased into hot, swirling water.

“I’ve been wanting to do this since last summer,” Gina said.

“I’m sorry things worked out like they did,” Susan said. Then she shrugged. “But I just didn’t think it would be right.”

I nodded my agreement.

“Well,” Gina said, “it’s okay now.”

Susan grinned at me as Gina reached for my dick. Then the older woman sat on the edge of the tub and spread her legs, revealing her smooth pussy. Still stroking me, Gina leaned over and began tonguing Susan’s slippery channel. Then I gently pulled Gina’s hand off my erection, moved behind her, and slid into her pussy while she continued licking Susan.

A little later, Gina marveled that Susan could take me all the way down her throat. Gina wanted to learn how to do it herself. Unfortunately, her gag reflex was too strong, but she had fun trying (and so did I).

By the time we dragged ourselves out of the bubbling water, shriveled and sated, we’d been gone almost three hours. We joked about our “three-hour cruise” as we dried off and got dressed. I smiled to myself, since I had my very own Ginger and Mary Ann. Dad and Chris didn’t say anything when we returned, but they both smiled knowingly.

For the rest of the weekend, Gina seemed to be in sexual overdrive, keeping me busy any time we could sneak away. The rest of the time, we simply relaxed and enjoyed the holiday. It was a weekend of contrasts: sexual frenzy and absolute indolence.

On Sunday afternoon, all three families made a trip to the airport. Doug had a flight back to Houston, and Kara boarded a plane bound for Charleston. Since Kirk couldn’t hitch a ride with another Navy flight, he bought a commercial ticket and flew to Annapolis via Washington, DC. Over a two-hour span, they each boarded their respective flights (after much hugging, kissing, and waving goodbye).

Susan spent one more night with us. The Coulters planned a party at their house for her and my parents. Gina and I, of course, knew what was going on. But before Gina even asked if we could join them, our parents sat us down and we all had a long talk.

Somewhat conveniently, Susan had gone to the local mall with Erin and Leah, so we wouldn’t be disturbed. I easily recognized the signs of Mom, Elizabeth, and Susan in collusion.

Elizabeth very reasonably explained to Gina that even though we were allowed a lot of freedom, we weren’t adults yet. Consequently, we couldn’t participate in the group swinging.

“Kara joined you,” Gina argued.

“Kara’s an adult. She’s over eighteen and she can make that decision for herself.”

“So? We’re mature enough.”

“In some ways,” Elizabeth replied, “but in many ways, you’re still sixteen.”

“It’s not fair...”

“Life’s like that sometimes,” Elizabeth said. “When you’re both eighteen, you can join us.”

“But Mom—”

“Gina,” Elizabeth cautioned.

I simply watched the whole explanation with equanimity. I knew where the discussion was headed almost before Elizabeth started talking. With a small sense of satisfaction, I noticed that Mom and Dad didn’t seem to be worried about my reaction.

Note to self: Maybe acting like an adult really does mean they treat me like one.

“If you want to whine about it,” Elizabeth continued, unperturbed, “then you can stay here tonight ... by yourself.”

That got Gina’s attention.

“But if you’d like to act like an adult, we’ll treat you like one,” Elizabeth said.

“So you’ll let us join you?” Gina hoped aloud.

“No, but your father and I were going to let you and Leah spend the night at the Hughes’s house. Unless,” she added, trying to hide a smile, “you want to continue whining about what’s not fair.”

“No,” Gina said. “I want to stay with Paul.”

“I thought you’d see it our way,” Elizabeth said without a trace of smugness. Then she looked at me and winked.

When Mom saw the gesture, she rolled her eyes at Elizabeth’s antics. Elizabeth only grinned wryly and then turned back to her daughter.

“You all can order pizza,” Elizabeth said, “and watch TV ... or ... whatever.”

Gina and I both nodded our assent.

The week before Christmas, Gina’s friend Lisa McGrath came from Charleston to visit. Gina wanted me to come over and meet her after lunch. Elizabeth and Leah had gone Christmas shopping with Mom and Erin, so I asked to borrow Dad’s car, a ‘76 Corvette. It was painted Orange Flame—an incredibly cool-looking fiery color—and I rarely got to drive it.

I called Gina before I left, and she told me to simply come inside when I got there. She and Lisa were in her room. I took the long way to her house, and arrived about fifteen minutes later. (What did you expect? I was driving a Corvette!)

When I arrived at the Coulters’ house, I walked around back and entered through the kitchen door. Gina’s room was upstairs, so I called out and then headed up. Her door was shut, so I knocked softly and told her it was me. I heard movement inside, but it stopped almost immediately. Then Gina told me to come in.

“Paul,” she said, when I opened the door, “this is Lisa.”

Lisa had medium-length light blonde hair, clear blue eyes, and a sultry smile (as well as lips that looked like they were made to give blowjobs). She was about as tall as Gina, although a little less curvy. Where Gina’s breasts were full and round, Lisa’s were quite a bit smaller, with light brown nipples. Her pubic hair was also light blonde, and trimmed into a neat, narrow triangle.

Both girls were nude. They stood posing for me—their arms around each other’s waists—smiling mischievously. When I gazed at Gina, she arched an eyebrow and smirked.

“It’s nice to meet you,” I said to Lisa, holding my hand out and trying to maintain my composure.

“Nice to meet you too ... finally,” she said. “I’ve heard wonderful things about you.”

“Same here.” Then I looked her in the eye. “So,” I asked, as conversationally as I could, “do you always meet new people like this? Or is this something special for me?”

“You don’t like my outfit?” she asked with an impish pout.

“Actually, your outfit’s really cute.”

“I told you he’d like you,” Gina said to the other girl, her eyes glittering with barely suppressed anticipation.

“But,” I continued, “it’s not the kind of thing I see everyday.”

“We were hoping you had a similar outfit,” Gina said.

“Oh, I do,” I said, “but Lisa and I have only just met. I don’t know if...”

Before I could finish, the two girls looked at each other, grinned, and came at me. Of course, I didn’t even try to fend them off. While Gina kissed me passionately, Lisa lifted my shirt out of my jeans.

“God, I’m so hot for you,” Gina said, pulling back so they could lift my shirt over my head.

Between the two of them, they quickly had me out of my clothes.

“You’re right, he’s gorgeous,” Lisa said, kissing my chest.

“Didn’t I tell you?”

Then they dropped to their knees in front of me and Gina showed Lisa how I liked to have my dick sucked. From there, we quickly progressed to the bed. In many ways, Lisa was quite a bit like Gina. The blonde girl had a lot less experience, but no less enthusiasm. It was like having sex with two nymphs; I thought I’d died and gone to heaven.

I hadn’t brought any rubbers—not realizing I’d need them—and I didn’t know if Lisa was on the pill or not, so I made sure not to come inside her. Almost as soon as I pulled out and came on her supple stomach, Gina realized why.

“She’s on the pill,” she said, to which Lisa nodded.

For the next hour and a half, the girls wore me out. They sucked me. I licked them. I fucked one while she ate the other. One straddled me while I ate the other. They licked each other while I was recovering. They licked me while I was recovering.

When I finally had to take a break, Gina pouted. Then she looked indecisive for a moment. Finally, she reached into her nightstand drawer and retrieved a pink plastic vibrator. It was only a little smaller than my dick, but smooth and tapered.

“Pinky!” Lisa cried.

“Kara gave it to me before we moved,” Gina explained. “She said she’d get a new one.” Then she looked at me and blushed.

I merely shrugged and gestured for her to enjoy herself. Gina obviously liked my dick; I didn’t feel threatened by plastic, electronics, and a pair of C-cell batteries.

“I didn’t know if you’d like me having this,” she said, relieved. Then she rolled her eyes. “If my mom knew how many batteries I go through...”

“I’ve missed Pinky,” Lisa said, her eyes alight.

“C’mere, I’ll do you first.”

As I watched, idly playing with my semi-hard penis, Gina took great delight in slowly working the vibrator into Lisa. After a few minutes, they switched positions and Gina spread her legs. Her dark, slippery labia parted as she did, revealing the deep pink of her inner folds.

For the next fifteen minutes, they plunged the buzzing toy into one another. While they did, I stroked myself. When Lisa realized I was completely hard, she practically pounced on me. That started another round of fucking and sucking (and vibrating). By the time we fell back on the bed, exhausted, I had come five times. In two hours!

While we were catching our breath, the phone rang. It was Gina’s mom. She, my mom, and our sisters were going to eat dinner out, since they were near downtown Atlanta. Gina’s dad was going to meet them at the restaurant.

Elizabeth suggested that Gina and I take Lisa out to dinner. After Gina hung up, I called my dad. As long as I was responsible, he said, I could drive the Corvette when I took the girls out to eat. I promised to be extra careful and he seemed satisfied.

So I had a hot car, two super-hot girls, and a dinner date. The girls would have to share the passenger seat in the two-place car, but I was sure they wouldn’t mind.

Until then, however, Gina pointed out that we had several hours. Then she got a playful look in her eye. She had been teasing me about shaving her pubic hair ever since our afternoon in the hot tub with Susan. When Gina told Lisa about it, the blonde enthusiastically agreed to shave herself too. I rolled my eyes and wondered just what I’d gotten myself into. Then Gina jumped up and practically dragged us toward her parents’ bathroom.

Once there, she filled the large bathtub and retrieved several fresh razors. Gina wanted to go first, so Lisa and I carefully shaved her, taking our time to spread her open and get every last hair. Then Lisa hopped onto the side of the tub and spread her legs for us. Her labia were smaller than Gina’s, but just as cute. She watched eagerly as we ran the razor over her.

When Lisa was as clean and smooth as Gina, the girls insisted on shaving me. Who was I to refuse? Since we weren’t at camp and I wouldn’t have to wear swim trunks, I lifted myself onto the side of the tub and spread my legs. Then the girls took their time lathering my cock and balls.

“Be careful,” I warned as they lifted my penis to shave the base. “I’m planning on using that thing.”

“So are we,” Lisa said.

While they shaved, they talked, and I learned a lot about Lisa. She was dating Joey Annecchiarico (Joey Whatshisname). She said she’d been having sex with him, but he wasn’t nearly as good as me. And he wasn’t as big, she said, idly stroking my slippery, half-hard cock.

“So you didn’t miss anything,” Lisa said to Gina.

Gina blushed and quickly changed the subject.

While they ran the razor over my scrotum, I silently cringed. But they were as careful with me as I’d been with them, and I was soon hair-free as well. When they rinsed off the last of the shaving cream, they admired their work.

“It looks bigger, doesn’t it?” Gina mused.

“Yeah,” Lisa agreed.

Then I realized she was playing with herself with her other hand.

After that, the girls wanted to see what it looked like when I slid my cock into their shaved pussies. So we quickly dried off, rinsed the hair out of the bathtub (Gina’s idea), and headed toward Gina’s room. Before we got there, however, she suggested we head outside to the hot tub.

Once there, we fooled around in the water for a few minutes. Then Gina hopped onto the deck at the edge of the hot tub, shivered in the cold air as her nipples immediately grew erect, then spread her legs. Steam was coming off her café au lait body, and with her legs spread, her shaven pussy seemed to beckon to me.

For the next hour, I fucked both girls almost non-stop. Neither of them seemed to get enough of the sight of my cock plunging into them and spreading their pussy open. It was an incredibly erotic sight, seeing the clean-shaven base of my cock with a beautiful pair of shaved labia wrapped snugly around it.

When we finally dragged ourselves out of the water, I had come twice more—once in Gina’s mouth, and once deep inside Lisa. Then we took a shower together. As the girls got ready for dinner, I relaxed in Gina’s room. When I heard them emerge from the bathroom, I started gathering my clothes.

Then I helped them select outfits for our date. Gina decided on a white turtleneck. Without a bra, her nipples were clearly visible through the thin fabric. Then, she got a bright idea and rushed off toward her parents’ room. When she returned, she got Lisa to help with the garter belt and silk stockings.

She looked incredible. The white fabric of the garter belt accentuated her dark skin and neatly framed her shaved labia. Almost reluctantly, she put on a dark red skirt and vest outfit, in keeping with the season.

Lisa picked out a pale pink fuzzy angora sweater, which buttoned up the front. It matched her full, pink lips almost perfectly. She also went braless, picking out a cute dark blue ruffled skirt to round out her ensemble. As the girls modeled their outfits, I realized that neither of them had put on panties.

“Don’t put your underwear back on,” Gina begged as I picked up my clothes.

With a shrug, I tossed the white briefs on her bed and stuck my leg in my jeans. Then I carefully tucked my dick into my fly and zipped it gently. Before I put on my shirt, the girls pressed themselves against me, both their hands running over my muscular chest. Finally, I talked them into letting me put on my shirt.

For our dinner out, I decided on an Italian restaurant a couple of miles away. It had some fairly private booths in the back, and I hoped one was available. When we entered the restaurant, I asked the hostess about them. The restaurant was almost empty and all the back booths were free. As she led us to one, the girls smiled devilishly.

Almost as soon as we sat down, Lisa unbuttoned her sweater all the way to her navel. When she leaned forward, I could see all of her right breast. Not to be outdone, Gina unbuttoned her vest, revealing two very hard, very noticeable nipples. Fortunately, the booth was situated so most of the patrons couldn’t see it, with a screen of plants hiding it from all but the table by the kitchen. And since the restaurant was almost deserted, no one was sitting there.