We met on a Friday lunchtime in Katz Deli in Manhattan. The attendant couldn’t quite grasp my Irish brogue. Pastrami with but-ter and tomato

Instead of Paw-straw-me with butter and toe-MAY-toe. The matter was eventually resolved by an attractive bottle-blonde behind me. Before I had even time to thank her, she had cut in, make that two!

‘Good choice’, said I, giving her a wry smile.

Then began the never-ending list of toppings from the attendant – mayo, reuben sauce, mustard. No, we both returned emphatically. ‘American cheese, swiss cheese, onions, gherkins, lettuce, coleslaw and sauerkraut to name a few. ‘No, just the pastrami with butter and tomato on rye bread,’ we snapped back. We turned and met each other’s curiosity.

‘Did you guys come in together or something?’ asked the attendant.

‘No’, we chimed, our eyes not lifting from the others.

‘That’s not an order we get everyday,’ remarked the attendant, keying in the items.

‘Oh, you gotta watch out for pastrami. It’s on the ryes!’ I joked. Immediately regretted trying to be funny but to my amazement it worked. She laughed and I mean the kind of belly-full laugh that you’d reserve for a stand-up comedian.

I put my money down on the counter. ‘I’ll pay for hers too’.

I don’t know what came over me. She could have been married or anything. I hadn’t thought to check her left hand. She immediately protested but when I insisted, she acquiesced. I was on fire today!

I pointed to a free table and hoped she would join. I sat, first, so that there was no pressure either way, and began fumbling for my little bottle of HP brown sauce. One was hard pressed to find it on offer at the deli’s anywhere in New York so I had learned on Friday’s to carry it in my bag. Her sandwich took a minute longer. I couldn’t see why this would be. The orders went in together and were the exact same but I figured this minute was when I’d lose her. I was sure she’d keep walking – straight out the door. It was New York, after all. Noone owes you anything. You could take a free meal and be unapologetic in walking away, confident in never seeing them again. This city could swallow you up like that.

Just when I had myself convinced she was a goner, she sat herself down across from me.

‘I wasn’t going to take you up on the seat.’

‘Why didn’t you?’

‘Brown sauce.’

I gave her a quizzical brow.

‘Great minds think alike,’ she exclaimed, pulling out a bottle of HP from her backpack.

‘That’s gas!’

She doesn’t understand my turn-of-phrase but from my toothy grin, she knows it’s a positive response.

‘How do you like your eggs in the morning?’ says she.

I thought it was a little forward but the grin grew bigger nonetheless.

I nod enthusiastically, the body now pulsating with excitement.

‘Swing by the I-Hop on Broadway in the morning. I’m serving. Breakfast on me.’

I had hoped for something else but a win was a win.I politely accepted this invitation and she made a quick dash for her train.

Throughout the afternoon, I could think of little else but my breakfast date. I was obsessing about what to wear.  Later, at home, I tried on four or five shirts until at last I felt I hit the right chord. Not too formal but not too casual either. I meant business – this girl was out of my league. I had to aim to impress.

It took all my willpower not to arrive too early – careful not to seem too keen.

I sauntered in with my best ‘I’m always this cool’ swagger a little after nine.

She was nowhere to be seen. How foolish of me. I’d not even got her name.

The hostess seated me at the window. I didn’t even look at the menu. My eyes were scanning the restaurant.

‘You know what you want?’ asked a young server.

I explained that I was here to meet a colleague and began describing her athletic build and wavy blond locks.

‘Oh, you mean Sheila.’

‘I suppose I do if she matches the description.’

‘Are you the brown sauce guy?’

‘Yup, that’s me,’ I beamed.

‘Oh ya, honey, she left a coupon for you. You can have any of the eggs or pancakes to the value of $17 dollars. She said that should cover the sandwich.’

‘Oh! She’s not here?’ I enquired, trying desperately to sound casual, despite my heart-breaking.

‘No! She switched her shifts. She’s going ring-shopping with her boyfriend! Isn’t it romantic?’

I nodded with a strained smile. I might as well have had the egg on my face!