I watch the candle flickering weakly upon the round dinner table. Then my eyes slowly rove over the massive lists of delicacies, meals, and appetizers on the menu. I smooth the wrinkles out of my fine silk shirt and fidget with the pearls dangling from around my neck. I breath in the aromas of fine cooking and glance vainly about the luxurious restaurant. Dishes and glasses clang delicately as soft jazz permeates the ambrosial air. Every man and woman sitting in tables glow with extravagant wealth. Everything drips with pure unadulterated riches. Once again, I find myself dining alone with my two loves: Food and Money. As long as I have them, I should be happy. I should be...

What shall it be? a handsome young voice finds my ear. The waiter stands stiffly before my table in his regulation tuxedo.

Lobster, yes. And a glass of wine on the or White? I think candidly for a moment. And gazing thoughtfully at the deep colors of my makeup and silken blouse, I reply, .

I am a lady of class. I have expensive dinners and great riches. Surely, I am happy. As the waiter leaves I gaze again at the flickering candle, softly dwindling into the dim light. This small candle cares for nothing. It clings to its lonely existence as it slowly fades into the night.

I glance up at a table before me. It is occupied by a young man and a young woman. This in itself is common at this restaurant, but the something about the couple catches my attention. I stare discreetly at them, picking out the details of their demeanor. The woman wears a silver dress, simple yet elegant. Though plain, it seems to sparkle delicately in the fluttering candlelight. Her hair is not richly died, nor is her face covered in expensive makeups. Yet she looks beautiful. In her simplicity she glows like a blushing young flower. Across from her the young man is clad in a decadent uniform. He is crisp and very carefully put together, each ribbon is meticulously placed upon the dark green olive jacket. He is not of high rank, not a general or even a sergeant. Just a soldier who was coming or going.

I wonder what brings such a couple to this place. I can tell by their air that neither of them is rich. I can see that they are only common citizens dressed in the best of their lowly apparel. They don't belong in the domain of the splendidly rich. I avert my gaze back to my candle. I have no interest in the affairs of common people. I am a lady of class. A steaming plate descends onto my round table. It is crowned with the fine red shell of an opulent lobster. Ornate greenery envelops the shell on all sides. My darling food has arrive. I breathe it in and savor its succulence. I chew slowly and thoughtfully, thinking that I must be happy.

Yet my eyes wander again toward the young couple. The woman's small hands rest pleasantly between the brawny palms of her suitor. They gaze amorously into each other's dreamy eyes. I've never seen such eyes. They speak secrets to each other with glimmering glances. I look out of the window behind them. The rosy sun sets behind the horizon. All the lights of a distant city begin to twinkle and shine, like the prancing flame kindling on the couple's table, like the glittering stars dancing in their eyes. The two are completely absorbed in one another. Nothing else in the world exists to them.

The waiter sets two plates on their table. Steak for one, chicken for the other. The woman looks at the man as if to ask if she could pay. The man smiles gently as if to say, of course not my dear. Then I remind myself that these young lovers are of no interest to me. My delights still wait on me to taste their exquisiteness and touch their pearliness. I am a lady of class. I care not for people who order dishes as measly as chicken.

I return my attention to my beautiful lobster. I try to smell it casually, but it has cooled and the steam no longer floats to my nose. I take a small bite. It tastes good... but I've tasted better. I finger the pearls on my necklace lightly. I can sense their smooth whiteness, but suddenly I notice how cold and hard they feel. These are my loves, and I do love them oh so very much. But somehow, I suspect that they may not love me back. How does a lady of class cope with such silly speculations? She acquires more, of course. More diamonds. More wine.

I can't help but stare at the lovely young couple again. They eat so thankfully, you'd think they were dining among kings and queens. I see them speak softly. I cannot hear a word, but I suppose they are whispering sweet nothings to one another. Perhaps the man says, My, you are so beautiful this evening. And maybe the woman, blushing, replies, Oh, but aren't you so charming! Or even better, maybe they whisper, I love you delightfully. Perhaps I am getting quite ahead of them. Maybe they are simply discussing the beauty of the night or the sweetness of their meal.

The waiter returns to them, asking if they should like a dessert. Their mouths water at each exquisite choice, beautiful pastries and creams. They smile slightly to each other, but decline the offer. Why don't they buy a dessert? I know they want it. I can smell the desire on them. Eventually my bill floats to my table. I stare at it. I used to be so proud of how much I could spend at one sitting. But now these sums are just numbers. My food has been eaten. My money fails to excite me. What is left for a lady of class? I look again at the couple. They are just sitting, probably waiting for their bill. The bill ... maybe this is what keeps them from their dessert.

Maybe I really am missing something. Maybe I've invested all of my time and love into vain endeavors. I know that these two have nothing near the riches that I do. I'm sure they fair quite nicely. But it seems to me that they love something other than money, something far more valuable. Perhaps they are far richer than I could ever be. I feel like doing a kind deed... for someone other than myself. I've never felt like that before ...

Excuse me, , ma'am?I should like a creme brulee ... for the couple over , yes ma' one more thing, I say, ushering the waiter back to my table, put their dinner on my bill.
I leave my table with a smile on my face. Maybe there is more to life after all.