educations sentimentales

Coffee with Gwynneth Paltrow at the Cafe Des Beaux Parvenus in Newbridge Silverware.
Her wheelchair is pushed to one side and she's ensconced in one of the cafe's own armchairs.
We are nattering about the price of fish.
Presently Gwen espies a woman of middle years struggling to enter from the atrium.
The woman is wrenching at the door but it won't open for her.
"Help her," says Gwen to me.
"Nah."
"Why not?"
"I don't really want to."
"Get up and help her."
"No."
"Go on. Give her a hand."
"Make me."
"James, you can't just leave her there like that."
"I can you know."
"Get up and help that woman."
"Nay, nay and thrice nay."
"Are you going to help her?"
"No I am not."
"Ah James go on."
"Death first."
After about five minutes of this charming banter, the atrium woman figures out how to work the door and comes striding over to our table.
Before I can say anything she begins berating Gwen.
"You! You just sat there! Staring at me. The whole time. How could you!"
I began to laugh.
Atrium woman marched off in high dudgeon.
Gwen seemed a bit stunned.
"That'll larn ya," sez I sweetly.