I am minding my own business in one of Motovun’s watering holes when our mayor appears with three young people. It is clear they are here on some kind of business. Wearing dark glasses, he does his best not to notice me. As well as to avoid my boisterous greetings. They sit down at a neighboring table and start talking. Now I am facing the backs of the mayor and a young man. The two young women in the mayor’s entourage are facing me, but the young man occludes one of them almost completely. The young woman I can see quite well is sitting opposite the mayor. The other young woman is doing most of the talking in a surprisingly deep and raspy voice, but I cannot hear a word of what she is saying. It does not take me long to notice that the young woman whose face I can see perfectly well is delighted to be in the mayor’s august presence. She is all smiles. She is grinning from ear to ear. She is radiant with joy, which she can hardly contain. Tall and slim, she flashes her teeth at anything he mutters. And her mouth is on the cavernous side. Her teeth are enormous, too, as are her infatuated eyes. Topped by eyebrows clipped to two arched slivers, they capture every word he utters. Every inflection of his stifled voice. The bitch appears to be in love. In ecstasy, as a matter of fact. It takes me an enormous effort not to get up from my chair. From the travesty unfolding at the neighboring table. From the plain sight of someone besotted with our dreary mayor. At long last, he pays the bill and they leave me in peace. I sigh at last, but it will take me a while to stamp that rapturous face out of my mind.