Appreciation (41) … I thought this was beyond me
Torrey Orton
Dec. 7, 2011
Ungloved, two-handed catch
The waitress leaned across the small three-seater to recover a finished starters plate. On the way back she tipped my half full, long-stemmed glass of fine Hunter rose towards me from the middle of the table. I can't remember how my hands got to catching it in mid-fall as if it were a cricket ball being gloved by a wicket keeper. I didn't drop the catch but a few drops splashed the table between Jane and me without threatening cuffs or shirt fronts in their flight to the table cloth.
I was, till that moment, mostly renowned for doing the glass tipping myself and having to sop up large wine puddles across tables and floors at home, not counting those glasses – short stemmed and long - smashed irretrievably in the sink : around 1 every two months or so. There's something invigorating about finding a natural skill that had seemed lost forever, though I can't actually remember how my hands got from where they were on the table to the appropriate catching position. Reflexes improve momentarily; short term memory slides even further?? Compensation before capitulation.
