Classic Tea, 2:30 sharp, at a Inn in a town made prosperous by family tobacco money.
We all carried our ladies purses and wore our summer sandals which we settled under the spotless white linen tableclothed table.
Sitting at a corner table encircled by the multi glass-paned windows, we chose our tea preferences, pots of white tea with hints of pear and pineapple and mango, black teas laced with vanilla. The server called the sugar lumps (not cubes) , we collected the lumps to sweeten our tea with a little silver spoon.
Shiny elevators in the lobby upon which proper tea time behavior was discarded for a brief moment.
Because we were completely filled up, it was time to go home.
