A drink gone wasted

I was sitting at a bar in Brussels with a local beer on my table looking out over the street. In front of me sat a blonde woman, I'm guessing late fourties to early fifties reading a book alone at a table sipping a white wine.

She looked engrossed in her literature, generally looking up to flick pages and clutch at her glass of wine. Sitting at a table alongside her was a lone male roughly of the same age, he was unshaven but one never knows if he was trying to look chic or he was overly scruffy.

His choice of clothes was casual, but slightly devoid of style, you could she he didn't make much of an effort to dress up. Maybe this is Brussels chic, could I be the one just not getting it? A glass of white wine to be arrived at her table, she looked up astonished and he smiled at her - she never smiled back.

Well, this was awkward their eyes never locked in a long glance, she waved her hands indicating she didn't want the drink. She packed up her belongings, paid her bill and left abruptly. He sat there nursing his drink glancing over at the full glass of white wine left at her table and left too. The waiter came along, picked up the glass of wine and took it back to the bar.