Wedding Breakfast

         From the snippets of conversation I've overheard I can work out the 'what' they have done but I can't work out 'why?'

        So, why are the Chief Bridesmaid and the Best Man from this years Society Wedding hiding out at the end of the day in this little dockside bar? they stick out like a anchovies in a fruit salad. Him in a dove grey morning suit and red braces, her in a nice charcoal coloured backless dress, properly made up, fancy shoes and all.

        The wedding isn't over, I can hear the music drifting across the water from the reception at the upmarket resort on the other side of the bay, and it can't be a case of sudden lust for they have been together for a few years now, I know them by sight, but not well.

       This little bar tucked between car workshops, boat yards and the fishing co-op is not easy to find. It's frequented mainly by locals and a few renegade expats that can't stand the tourists, its not the kind of place people dress up, putting on a clean t-shirt counts as making an effort around here. It doesn't have a lot to offer apart from the fact that it must be about the maximum distance anyone could walk from the resort in those strange contraptions on her feet.

       Mind you the cook is good here,  local fare, but if you want salt-fish bakes you won't find better.

      The barmaid sets a table by the window and they leave the bar and pass by me, I can't help myself.

  "What are you two doing here?"

    "Nouvelle  Cuisine"  he said by way of explanation 

     "we're starving" she added "we've been on the go since breakfast"