It was an elegant restaurant.
The short, sharp coffee came with two small orange packets: one long and thin and clearly filled with sugar; the other small and square.
What’s this, I said, squinting. Mentes? Mint powder to mix in your coffee?
No, said Amy. It must be an after-dinner mint.
Of course, I said. I had drunk, perhaps, a bit too much port. And certainly a lot of wine.
The coffee aftertaste was strong. Contemplative, I tore open the packet and looked at the powder inside. Powdered after-dinner mint? Interesting, I thought, as I ate it delicately with my coffee spoon.
This is not very minty, I said.
Um, Jean, said Liz.
It’s aspartame, said Amy. Mentes is the brand name.
I just ate a packet of aspartame with a spoon? I said.
Yes, they said.
This, I said, is the least elegant thing I’ve done in the whole of my life.
