Monk's Diner was a popular place and Daphne should have known better than to enter an establishment where she'd been with Niles.
What was she thinking? It could only lead to more thoughts of loneliness and heartache.
But clearly she wasn't thinking and she wondered yet again if she should seek professional help. But before she could even finish the thought, she was cornered by a very familiar foursome.
"Hey Marla, nice to see you!"
She groaned at the sight of Jerry's obnoxious friend Elaine who was accompanied by the little guy George and the lanky man named Kramer as well as Jerry himself.
"Hello." She replied quietly.
"Well, well... if it isn't Marla the Virgin!" Jerry exclaimed.
George chuckled. "Hey Jer, don't you mean Marla the 'oops I almost wasn't a virgin!'?"
George's comment made Kramer laugh hysterically and, still laughing, the four headed to their table.
Even from her place across the restaurant, she could hear them talking about her; Jerry gloating with pride about the private moments he'd shared with Marla. For the millionth time she wished she'd never come up with such a stupid name. But she supposed it made the hurt just a little less painful; for if they had been referring to her by her real name, she wasn't sure if she'd be able to take it.
Even so, the shame and humiliation she'd felt the night that she was here with Niles while the foursome sat at their booth making fun of her came back, only this time there was no one to comfort her.
The hot tears stung her eyes and she angrily brushed them away. How dare they make fun of her! So what if she was a virgin? Lots of women were!
Making love wasn't something to be taken lightly. It was beautiful; or so she'd heard. The many romance novels she'd read certainly made it seem that way; the gentle touches, pleasurable sighs and passionate kisses made Daphne's heart race just thinking about them.
She had long since lost count of how many romance novels she had on her bookshelf, each one with worn, dog-eared pages containing the steamiest most romantic paragraphs. She'd read each one so many times, she knew the words by heart. But mere words couldn't possibly compare to the real thing.
She wasn't sure if it was hope or pure stupidity that made her do such daft things like reading romance novels, but somehow she knew that one day she'd find the man of her dreams. And when they made love, she was sure that it would be better than any romance novel. But now she doubted if she'd ever get to experience such blissfulness.
When she looked over at Jerry, he was laughing hysterically at something Kramer had said. No doubt they were still speaking about her-probably having the time of their lives at her expense. The thought that Jerry had shared intimate details of their relationship with George, Kramer and Elaine brought even more tears that fell relentlessly onto the romance novel she held in her hands. And suddenly she wasn't hungry anymore, nor was she feeling well.
When she was sure that they were deep in conversation and paying no attention to her, she quietly slipped out of the café. A glance at her watch indicated that she didn't have much time before she had to be at work. But the thought of sitting behind a desk writing reports was completely unbearable. How could she possibly explain her red puffy eyes and tear-streaked cheeks? Her nosy coworkers would only lead to more tears.
And she headed home; her stomach almost as empty as her heart. After calling in sick and receiving a stern but familiar lecture from her boss, she took off her shoes and climbed into bed, crying herself into slumber once more.