Perfect Evening

After their amiable dinner, polite portions composing a three-course meal, kale salad, veal strips, a sliver of raspberry cheesecake, they enjoyed an after-dinner cocktail, mojitos, relaxed to the tunes of the not-too-loud live jazz band, and counted the calm summer evening as perfect; at least until the check arrived, that leather-bound obligation of payment, to which, they both reached, grasped, and tugged, only to find the other saying “I’ll get that” and tugging again, sparking a few unkind words: presumptive, impossible, arrogant, unreasonable, sexist, and bitch among them which resulted in a slap, reciprocated, repeated, soon escalating to an all out battle of flaming candles, forks, and knives, punctuated by twists, kicks, flips, and cartwheels as the couple struggled to establish supremacy, all the while holding the small receipt-filled booklet, eventually resulting in a conflagration which consumed the restaurant sending all the patrons into that perfect summer night.