Cosmic Café 18:
Lunch at the Café

The Moon waited until we were all seated, then began hovering around us while we served ourselves. Mercury, of course, already does everything quickly, but put him in Aries, and, well, let's just say he was done, up and out the door before I'd even taken a bite.

The Moon shook her head as he buzzed by her and dropped a kiss on the top of her head. "Oh, honey, sit for a while and let that settle! You're going to get indigestion if you don't slow down, dear."

But he was gone.

I glanced over at Venus, sitting across from me with one arm wrapped around Mars. She winked and toasted me with a glass of wine, then returned to gazing adoringly at Mars—and I really couldn't blame her. He was absolutely beautiful, a big, rugged man with rock-steady confidence, and a knack for dressing well. Very well. Mars in Taurus—what a great combination! All the passion of Mars wrapped up in one earthy, sensual package. A veritable magnet. I had to force myself to look away, but God/dess knows I didn't want Venus in Aries mad at me.

Besides, I had other things to concentrate on. Like keeping my plate on the table, for instance. Jupiter, it seemed, had a habit of banging on it with his large, heavy hand to emphasize just how funny he thought the joke he'd just told was. Apparently, that last one had been a real kicker, too. He laughed and hit the table again, and the Moon's china rattled. She tossed him a look, and said, "Careful, dear," but she, too, was beginning to giggle. Jupiter's laughter was contagious. He started to get a hold of himself, until he noticed I had a death-grip on my silverware. That must have struck him funny, because he laughed so hard, he cried.

Venus and I exchanged glances and said, "Jupiter," at the same time. We started giggling, and then it was all over. He had us. The Moon was laughing, too, and looking at him with the most tender glance I'd ever seen. She was obviously quite fond of him. Finally, Jupiter rose, wiping his eyes with his tie. "I'd like to propose a toast," he said, getting quite serious. We all raised our glasses. "To the success of the Café—and to getting the message out."

We toasted, and he settled down. Venus looked over at him, grinning and pretending to be exasperated. "Okay, Uncle J. Now, can we please eat? Geez Louise!" At that, Jupiter started grinning, threatening to shake the table with his laughter again. Venus pointed at him with one of those long red nails and said, "Don't you dare. No laughing."

He smiled, repentant. "Oh, Venus, honey—it's good to laugh. It helps you digest your meal."

"I'd just like a chance to eat my meal before I worry about digesting it!" she tossed back.

Jupiter glanced sideways at me, grinning widely. "See what I let her get away with?"

She blew him a bright red kiss and poured dressing on her salad.

Mars patted Venus on the hand indulgently and winked seductively at her. "Hey—be nice, baby. I've got tickets—but you have to behave yourself."

She giggled and clapped her hands. "Oh, boy! Music? Is it music?"

He nodded, smiling.

Venus was delighted. "I love music! You're the best, babe! Where are we going?" She was obviously tickled.

"To the opera," he said. Oh, yeah, he was in Taurus, all right. The sign of music—good music. I could see how he'd love opera. Venus, however, wasn't thrilled. I could understand that, too. Dressed as she was in red-hot Aries, I thought she'd probably feel more at home at a rock concert. "Oh. Okay." She looked down dejectedly at her food, poking at it restlessly—but not eating. I could feel a temper tantrum coming on.

Next Week: Mars in Taurus and Venus in Aries—A Case of Mutual Reception

Kim Rogers-Gallagher is a well known columnist, lecturer and author of Astrology for the Light Side of the Brain and Astrology for the Light Side of the Future(ACS Publications).