Page Two (I Wrote It By Mistake)

Two notes before I post page two. First, I bought "Figure 8." Second, I have about five pages done. Comments welcome, as always.

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While waiting for the maitre d’, He whispered to Darius:
"How’d you manage to get us into this place?"
"Don’t you worry about that dear friend," Darius said boisterously, "I have connections, and business is good. Business is very good."
The volume of Darius’s voice attracted the maitre d’, an attractive girl who looked no older than sixteen. Her name tag read, "Mary K." Darius winked and nudged him, and smiled. He smiled and smiled. From behind blue eyes she asked, "Your day passes gentlemen?"
"Day pass–"
"Right here." Darius stepped forward and produced two cards, followed by a driver’s license. Mary K. looked them over and cooly said, "You didn’t register your guest."
"I did, I called in an hour ago."
"I need to see his identification." Darius looked at him.
Baffled, shocked, and somewhat ashamed, he pulled out his wallet and clumsily handed his license over to the girl.
"Damien... Aleksey?" Her brow furrowed, making her seem angry at the name.
"Yes," was all he could mutter.
"Let me check the records." She stepped away, down the hall to disappear in the greatness.
"A day pass? Why are we eating here?" Damien was still whispering, as if he didn’t deserve to speak.
"You check out the fox? You should get her number." Darius was smiling and looking down the hall to see if he could see her.
This comment cut the conversation. He could not stand when Darius would suggest that he call, talk to, or stare at women. Damien would not admit it, but he was still a virgin. The term itself was so feminine, he felt emasculated just thinking of it. It was a pure term, and yet it was something that left him ashamed. He remembered the smile on the queen of hearts’ face. He remembered the fall. Suddenly pretty Mary K. appeared.
"Yeah, he checks out. This way, gentlemen."

"Life," Darius paused for philosophical import, "is but a gamble, a gambol."
They were sitting at their table, waiting. They had not yet ordered. There were two glasses before him, a salad plate, an excess of forks and knives and spoons. There was a fine linen table cloth that Damien could not help but play with, and he was distracted because Darius was affected. Darius was always affected when he played philosopher, always discoursing gambling, its honors, its virtues. One lunch he spoke of probability. He called upon Karl Popper’s theory that probability is a propensity in nature, that it exists, and Darius concluded that one should accept it. He spoke of the gambler’s fallacy at another meeting, and Hume’s treatment of induction on yet another. Damien knew that he didn’t really know what Darius was talking about when he was thus affected, but nodded and agreed. Damien liked it better when Darius would talk about scores, or politics, or religion. Damien continued playing with the tablecloth while Darius continued, oblivious to Damien’s obliviousness.
"One must understand this, and take advantage of both aspects of life. The gambling, and the gamboling." Darius was pleased with his pun, so he would iterate it ad infinitum.
"I guess." One of the glasses shuddered from the movement of the tablecloth