Repulsive eater

"She's a reclusive eater," Gran said.

"A what?"I asked barely paying attention, my gaze watching the fit new waiter. Kicking me under the table to subtly snatch my attention back, Gran's overly loud voice rings through the little conservatory of our most popular hotel in the town. This causes everyone to stop and stare.

"You're gawping at the young man, you might want to close your mouth. You are going to catch flies."

My eyes widen to the point of exploding out of my head.

"Gran," I said, a warning in my tone which will no doubt fall on deaf ears as most things do with Gran.

The older in years the less care Gran gives, is this the way of all the older generation whereby they reach an age of opinionated devil may care-ness which puts stroppy teens to shame?

"I mean look at her, the size of the chunk of cake," she continued. Again oblivious to my embarrassment and horror.

"What are you talking about?" I asked, not wanting the answer but playing lip service to her.

"Her, the reclusive eater," she points, actually points at a heavy set young woman on a table four away from where we sit.

"Gran, don't be rude," I whispered. "Anyway a reclusive eater is not a thing. Reclusive means not liking other peoples company."

"Yeah, probably right, oh no hang on... A repulsive eater is what I mean," she shouts to me when a whisper will more than suffice, as the waiter comes to take our order.

My face blazes the colour of the scarlet table cloth.

"I'm so sorry, please ignore my Gran. She has no filter," I apologised on her behalf.

He flashed me a smile, and my heart melts at the crooked turn of his mouth and the adorable dimples in his cheeks.

Repulsive eater! What the hell is she talking about, and when is she going to stop?

I enjoy spending time with my Gran but these events are becoming more common and I am beginning to think I am going to have to make my excuses to not make our next date.

"Compulsive eater that's what she is, ramming chocolate cake down her neck like it's going out of fashion," Gran shouted with delight. Remembering what the word is which has been eluding her. I glance in the direction of the lady who thankfully hasn't overheard her, how I don't know, the old bat is screeching at the top of her voice and over compensating for her being hard of hearing.

"Gran, please be quiet for the love of God you are embarrassing me," I said wanting the ground to swallow me up. My eyes looking at the waiter pleading for him to bar her so I can leave and avoid this scene. Sadly this isn't to be, and he takes our order of cakes and a pot of tea.

Once we've ordered I excuse myself to use the bathroom and head off, silently praying Gran behaves herself while I am gone. Rounding the corner the waiter, walking at pace, collides with me planting a huge slice of chocolate cake squarely down my once pristine white trouser suit.

"I'm so sorry! Here," he frantically starts to wipe me down, making it worse. The most unfortunate thing being the cake is brown, the colour of--

"Don't worry, I probably deserve it for bringing my Gran to insult your customers," I apologised. "She's getting worse."

"Don't say that, I find you bringing her here fantastic. I'm working here to fund my study to become a doctor. My specialty will be degenerative illnesses of the elderly," his face lit with the pride glowing inside him of his hard work to live his dream.

"I'm Tam," he said reaching his hand towards me a further apology reaching from deep in his eyes. "I never got to spend the time I would have liked with my elderly relatives. You are lucky. I'm sorry about your clothes, will you agree to come out with me?"

"You don't need to," I begin. Whilst my brain screams shut up the hot waiter is asking you out. "That will be lovely, thanks. I'm Melody," I said quickly before he can change his mind.

We arrange to meet up the following day and I make a metal note not to wear white again, although it brought me my desired result today. He may not have asked me out had we not collided.

"What are you grinning about, and what happened to your clothes?" Gran shouted as I sit down.

"Oh nothing, little accident," I said.

When Tam brings our order he apologised again for the accident.

"This is on me, as your wearing another tables' order," his cheeky smile spreading across his face.

"Perfect," Gran said somewhat cryptically as a mischievous glint flashes in her eyes.

We both looked at her questions clear in our faces.

"This is the least an old woman can do for her Granddaughter to ensure she receives as much luck and happiness in love as me," Gran becomes more cryptic.

"Are you confused Gran? Would you like me to take you home?" Worried she is getting mushy about Pops, and will think he's home waiting for her.

"No!" Standing, she walks over to her compulsive eater a few tables away and hands her a stack of £10 notes, kissing her on both cheeks.

"What the-" I stammered.

"I think your Gran is a lot savvier than you give her credit," Tam grinned.

"OMG she's the geriatric version of Tinder!" Clasping my hands to my face in horror, "We've been set up!"

"I'm not complaining, what a woman your Gran is," Tam laughed.

Walking back to the table with a new spring in her step, Gran winked at me!

"You're welcome, I know you two are a perfect match. I needed to get you both to see it, because why would you listen to an old woman. What would she know after all?"