WTN: dalliance
James Harbeck
dalliance
“Did I,” said Maury idly, “ever tell you of my deli dalliance?”
“Your dilly-dallying?” I said, looking up from my daiquiri.
“No,” he said, “not dilly. It wasn’t a Dairy Queen. I was a teen, working in a delicatessen, and I formed a… daily alliance with a charming co-worker.”
“Do tell,” I said. “You say it was a dalliance, so…”
“Yes,” Maury said, “it was not a serious thing. Mere dabbling. An alternative to indolence. On occasions where we would need to go to the cooler together, we would simply cool our heels for a little longer.”
“And heat your passions?”
“They needed no encouragement, just a bit of time. And a bit of time we took. A small delay. A small delayance.” Maury knew as I do that delayance is not a word in our dictionaries, but that delay and dally are doublets: both come from Old French delaier, which was de- plus laiier, meaning ‘hinder, delay, leave alone’. But dally, and in particular its derivative dalliance, somehow gained a specific sense focusing on a particular way for a pair of people to make the time pass…
“…Just chilling,” I said.
“Yes,” Maury said, “as the younger sets would say it. No Netflix necessary. Simply letting the minutes pass pressed against the pastrami, noodling next to the macaroni salad.”
“Until your boss wondered where you were,” I said.
“Ah, well,” said Maury dolorously. “There was the rub. Dolly—”
“Dolly?” I said.
“Yes, that was her name. Dolly had a dual alliance. I was getting afternoon delight, but my idyll was additional. We were dwelling for a few moments in the cooler, but she was dwelling much more durably with my supervisor.”
“I see,” I said.
“And so, and length, would he,” Maury said dully. “We both recognized the indelicacy of the dalliance, and I knew that she would rather cleave to her spouse, my boss, than cleave from him. I also recognized his skill with a cleaver. So, one day in July, I delayed no longer, and kissed my job – and her – goodbye.”
“A wise move,” I said.
“It is best to follow an unwise choice with a wise one. And, duly de-allied, I thereafter distributed my amorous dilettantism more dutifully.”
“Did you really,” I said. I raised an eyebrow.
“Well,” said Maury, after draining his drink, “I’m not the Dalai Lama.”
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