Solecism

Word of the Day Friday, March 12, 2010

solecism

\SOL-uh-siz-uhm\ , noun;

1. A nonstandard usage or grammatical construction; also, a minor blunder in speech.
2. A breach of good manners or etiquette.
3. Any inconsistency, mistake, or impropriety.

Diane glared at him from across the table.

He averted her gaze and refilled his glass of wine.

After several heavy moments of silence he carefully set down his wine glass, "What?" he asked, exasperated. She had made the dinner reservation for that night, leaving the information about where he was expected to show up with his secretary that afternoon. Now, she had barely said two sentences to him once he had joined her at the table.

She had turned a frosty cheek to his kiss.

He, in turn, had quickly downed two glasses of wine, and was no longer very sober.

"You are a piece of shit," she replied curtly, her lips pursing.

Marvin smirked at her, "Is that all?" he asked, and took another sip of wine.

She stared at him, "I know," she replied lowering her voice.

He looked up at her, "Know what?"

"About her," she hissed leaning across the table.

He leaned back in his chair away from his wife's face, "Blah, blah, blah. I already discussed this with you. She is blackmailing me, remember? We talked about it. I'm paying her a shit load of money discretely. It is depressing the fuck out of me," he said his voice sounding very tired.

"You lied to me," Diane whispered.

"I lied to you! You are absurd!" he scoffed picking his glass of wine back up.

"You are fucking her," she hissed back at him.

He coughed as a lug of wine shot up his nose. People turned and stared as he coughed heavily. "You are being ridiculous, I made the money exchanges at the hotels like we discussed. I'm too well known in this city to meet up with her in public. We talked about this!" he said hoarsely, still trying to catch his breath.

"I have pictures you son of a bitch!" she yelled at him.

Everything in the restaurant drew to an abrupt halt, all eyes swiveling towards Diane.

"Diane, stop," he hissed.

"No! I will not stop, you miserable fuck! We are over! And the best part is that the last laugh will be on you because while you were spending all your time with your whore I was taking over your business!" she continued to yell.

His neck was crawling with all the eyes in the restaurant glued onto him waiting for what he would say. He could almost hear the gossip columnists scribbling away. "I love you," he said.

She stood up and tossed the last of her glass of wine into his face, turned on her heel, and swept out of the restaurant. The crowd had gasped at this final humiliating solecism and watched to see what the famous Marvin Cohen would do next.

He slowly pushed his chair back, left a pile of bills on the table, and gently lifted the snow white trench coat off of the back of Diane's chair as he made his way outside to catch a cab.