Now Harry may have his faults, but indecision is not among them. ‘I’ll take the goat’s cheese,’ he says commandingly. ‘On one condition: I buy you lunch. Tomorrow. High noon. The Café de la Paix.’ Sam has fewer faults than Harry, plus the unshakable serenity of the nutritionally content. ‘I’ll be there,’ she says, agreeably, turning her attention to a generous wedge of double crème brie the dairyman is holding out for her approval. She can always make linguine with brie and almonds, instead.
Harry forgets all about the other items on Kay’s list—non-fat yogurt, lite margarine, pre-sliced carrot sticks, a bag of those low-salt, faux-fat corn chips she insists on crunching during John Stewart headlines. His heart light, his feet scarcely touching the ground, he steps out into the wintry air, just as the setting sun turns icy Wisconsin Avenue a particularly molten shade of gold. As he rounds the corner of Veazey heading towards home, he glances curiously at the package in his hand. ‘This stuff looks pretty rich for low-fat,’ he says to himself, an unmistakable twinge of appetite beginning deep in his toes. ‘Maybe Kay’s wrong. Maybe this is going to work out after all.’
Up next … Episode 4: Could This Be Lunch?