I was headed home after a long day of work. Instead of going home to cook dinner, I decided to treat myself to take-out. I had almost completely, but not wholly decided on Subway. I picked up the phone to make my daily call to my friend, Mandy. She answered the phone on the first ring and we quickly got into conversation. She was in town at the new Joann’s buying yarn. She has recently taken up knitting scarves all of which she has learned to do by watching YouTube. I tell her about my dinner plans and she asks in a non-subtle way where I am going. When I say Subway, I can tell that she isn’t very interested. Then I ask if she wants to meet for dinner. The first thing out of her mouth is how her husband is working late and that she would love to meet me. After a few minutes of pondering where we should go, we settled on Cheddar’s. I’ve yet to eat there, but she has been several times and highly recommends it. I say that I’ll meet her there and then we hang up.
Since I was traveling from Dawsonville and she was just a mile or so away from the restaurant, I’m thinking that it is safe to say that she will be there first. I’m not sure how the rest of you feel about meeting people, but it is always awkward to be the first or the last person to show up. You don’t know if you should go ahead and get a table or wait OR you are left wondering where in the world everyone is sitting and if they have already ordered. Since we had picked such a popular restaurant, I’m thankful that she was ahead of me and would already have us a place to sit by the time I arrived. I pulled into the very crowded parking lot, found a fairly decent spot, got out of my car, locked it up, and headed inside. I turn to my left as I see a car approaching and notice that my dear, wonderful friend, Mandy is just now arriving. To top it off, she’s on the phone and we both know that her parking skills are slightly weakened when she is attempting this task. Knowing that she is right behind me, I head on inside. I give the hostess our number of guests and she immediately lets me bypass all the people already waiting. I look around for Mandy and she is not in sight. I’m guessing that she will enter any second and see me and quickly catch up. As usual in circumstances like this, that doesn’t happen.
This is one of the largest restaurants I’ve ever been in. It seems to go on and on and on. As I’m being taken to our table, I keep thinking how in the world is she going to find me here, but I’m also thankful that it isn’t me that’s left behind. I’m pretty sure that I would have gotten lost. I also know that no one asked for my name. So essentially, finding me is going to be difficult at best. I’m seated at a table in a section that is already filled with people and I wait. The waiter comes by asking for my drink order and I tell him mine and wait. He brings the drink back and I’m still waiting. I call Mandy thinking that she is on the phone with her sister (sorry Jaime) and can’t get off. She ignores my calls. (I made 2.) I keep peeking my head out of the over-sized booth that I was sat in with no luck. I text her the directions to our seats and hope that she can pry the phone away from her face long enough to find me. I wait for at least 10 minutes when she makes her appearance…….. still on the phone.
The phone conversation eventually ends and I immediately ask her to take off her new crocheted scarf so that I can try it on. It looks great and I’m sitting there so proud because I know that she must be planning one of these beauties for around my neck too. We discussed the different kinds of approaches to knitting, how she can add flowers to it for a little razzle dazzle, once she learns how to create them, and how different yarns yield different scarves. We order our food and then move onto other topics. During the entire time since I’ve sat down, I’ve noticed that almost everyone sitting near us has silver or gray hair, and a few people with no hair at all. Of course, I’m looking in one direction only and think there must be some young people sitting behind me. The thought lasts for only a moment when an elderly couple leave and are replaced with 2 more of the same age.
I know that at this point Mandy is wondering why my eyes keep moving around our small dining area. Every time someone comes or goes, I look their way. I’m doing this because I realize that the hostess has sat us in the over 60 section of the restaurant. I’m personally not prejudiced and I know the establishment would deny it, but the fact still remains that a couple of young ladies (we are still in our early 30s) were seated in a section of the dining room that is reserved for older people. Since most of our conversation at dinner was about her new obsession with scarf making, I have decided to blame Mandy. Her knitting has made us old. They saw us coming; therefore they sat us with the upper aged crowd. I tell her to look around and when she does she doesn’t appear to notice the same thing that I do. Of course, she is also allowed a more panoramic view than I. She laughs. I tell her that it is her fault and the fact that she is in bed by 9:00 every night after taking a long nap after getting home from work in the afternoon, and now to top it off she is knitting scarves; she is the one to blame!!! Also I’m a little offended that apparently I send off messages that I need a “sugar daddy” since I was the first to enter the restaurant.
I take my phone out needing to get back in touch with reality and check the time. So my clock says 6:00 and we are finished with dinner and have been for 30 minutes? Does that really make a difference? Apparently it does. As we were leaving with the rest of the retired, the late crowd had room to sit. You know, the people who eat at a normal time. Sometime after 6:00. At least, I got home in time to be ready for bed by 9:00.
:o)
I love people over 60. I love people who can knit. Please don't take offense if you fall into either or both of these categories. By the way, if you do knit, I would love ... never mind. ;o)
