A Habitual Ritual
Tonight we ate at a new restaurant— different waitpeople, new menu. The waitress at ‘99’ discusses basketball and baseball with us. We know she goes to spring training, still harbors a grudge against David Price, and thinks the Celtics will put it together.
At our favorite Vietnamese restaurant they know we don’t use chop sticks and at our favored Thai restaurant they are pretty sure I’ll order Sweet and Sour with shrimp.
And so it goes. Almost every week we go out to eat with two friends and have a rotating list of local restaurants. It’s a ritual— bottle of Chardonnay— “We’ll pour it.” And Pat and I meticulously pour an identical amount in each of the four glasses. Some restaurants we always order salmon— they get rare and we get medium well done.
It’s like a ritual— we always catch up on books, some political tidbits, and bits and pieces of news. Tonight I brought up the two men attempting to cross Antarctica— each one going solo. Sometimes we talk about past times.
Some discovered things— some restaurants are more conducive to conversation than other restaurants. The noise level in our favorite seafood restaurant is almost as loud as the movie previews in a theater.
An aside— the meal in the new restaurant was delicious — the waiter made an excellent suggestion and we don’t know his favorite sports team.
We stayed away from politics because it’s better for digestion.
At our favorite Vietnamese restaurant they know we don’t use chop sticks and at our favored Thai restaurant they are pretty sure I’ll order Sweet and Sour with shrimp.
And so it goes. Almost every week we go out to eat with two friends and have a rotating list of local restaurants. It’s a ritual— bottle of Chardonnay— “We’ll pour it.” And Pat and I meticulously pour an identical amount in each of the four glasses. Some restaurants we always order salmon— they get rare and we get medium well done.
It’s like a ritual— we always catch up on books, some political tidbits, and bits and pieces of news. Tonight I brought up the two men attempting to cross Antarctica— each one going solo. Sometimes we talk about past times.
Some discovered things— some restaurants are more conducive to conversation than other restaurants. The noise level in our favorite seafood restaurant is almost as loud as the movie previews in a theater.
An aside— the meal in the new restaurant was delicious — the waiter made an excellent suggestion and we don’t know his favorite sports team.
We stayed away from politics because it’s better for digestion.
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