But Madame Is My Mistress!

Submitted by Nicole:

Sam was an interesting character.  He would end all of his statements to me with "madame," or "my mistress."  At first it was endearing.  Then it became annoying.

I should have realized that there was going to be trouble even before dinner.  He offered to take my coat and pull out my chair.  I thanked him and told him that I could do those myself.  He said, "I must insist, my mistress," and took off my coat and pulled out my chair.

He reached across the table, breathed on my silverware, and wiped each one off with his napkin.  "Your silverware is cleansed, madame," he said, and smiled at me.

"Thanks," I replied.

He ordered a bottle of wine, insisted on pouring me some, and then asked me to "mirror his sips."  Is that something that's normally done?  He said that I shouldn't drink until he drank, and then, only drink as much as he did.  I hadn't heard of the practice before, and I can't say that I was really into trying it, and I told him so.

He said, "Suit yourself, madame."

When the waiter came by for our order, Sam ordered first, then turned to me.  "And for you, my mistress?"

The waiter turned to me, but Sam wasn't finished.  He said to the waiter, "Just so that you understand, she is not really my mistress.  This is merely a game we play," and then winked at me.

I ordered salmon and Sam cringed as the waiter took our menus.  "Fish hardly befits you, madame," he said.

I desperately wanted to ask him to stop ending each sentence with "madame" and "my mistress," but I kept my cool.

Towards the end of dinner, he asked, "Would you like dessert, my mistress?"

I said, "Your mistress would like the check, good sir."

He leaned in uncomfortably close and said, "Mistress doesn't pay the check.  Mistress never pays the check.  Mistress was always here.  Always will be."

He sat back in his seat, giving me an impish grin.  I was so creeped out by this guy, I had to call him on something.

"What the hell are you talking about?" I asked.

He said, "Language, mistress!  Such words do not befit–"

"And stop calling me 'mistress'!  Nicole will do."

Very calmly, he said, "If mistress continues to misbehave, then mistress will feel my wrath."

I stared at him, then stood up, said, "I'm going to go," and went.  A "sir" of his stature wouldn't leave a restaurant without paying a check, and so he remained there.

I received about fifty text messages from him before he figured out that "mistress" was done with him.