September 26, 2009 @ 19:25
There's a restaurant near my tin palace in the Kawarthas. It's called the Old Bridge Inn and it's a quaint little place with a great service and a superb menu.
My wife Delyse and I paid a visit recently and were directed to a small table for two that was up against a dry wall divider that had a table immediately on the other side. The divider was just the length of the tables so the gentleman next to me was in view, maybe two feet away.
I ordered the seafood linguini with red sauce and it was fabulous. Shrimp, scallops and salmon chunks in a thin spicy sauce served over pasta cooked just the way I like it.
Problem is, I'm the kind of eater what when I leave the table you know I've been there.
It doesn't matter what I eat I always leave my mark. My wife can eat the same thing and leave a table cloth spotless. I leave stains, spills and quite often saliva.
Anyway, on this particular night at the Old Bridge Inn I was quite famished so I dove into my seafood with the gusto of a starving sailor and it wasn't long before my wife made an observation.
The drywall divider was splattered quite generously with thin spicy red sauce from by seafood linguini. It was something to see. Splashes directly on the level of my mouth would have been easy to understand, but some of these splashes were a good two feet above my head. Boy oh boy, was I ever enjoying this meal.
The sauce was thin enough that while I was twirling the linguini on my fork sauce was flying off against the wall. Sometimes while I was lifting it to my mouth portions would fall back onto the plate explaining the higher splashes.
Needless to say I was embarrassed, not quite as embarrassed as Delyse of course, but embarrassed just the same, and embarrassed to the point that I quickly grabbed a napkin and started to scrub the wall.
Not only did this make Delyse more embarrassed but it created more of a mess than I started with.
Stop, said my sweet wife, don't worry about it. Just leave it alone, which I did.
At that point I plowed back into my meal but it wasn't long before I was horrified to see further results of my vigorous eating habits.
It was the guy next to me. I happened to glance over and the entire sleeve of his dress shirt was spotted with thin spicy red sauce. What hadn't been flung against the divider had leaped two feet and found his shirt.
My heart sunk. Assaulting the wall was one thing, but soiling another mans shirt was something I didn't want to deal with. What if he noticed? What if some thin spicy red sauce slapped the side of his face? How would he react?
To that moment it seemed to be OK. He was going about his business like nothing was wrong, so I was safe. I wanted to stop eating to prevent any further damage, but the linguini was too good. I dropped the fork and drank the sauce like soup while I kept looking over at buddy boy.
He noticed nothing. He smiled and chatted with his wife through dessert and cappuccinos and man oh man was I relieved when they got up and left.
It was quite the experience and if learned anything from this experience its this; restaurants shouldn't put tables so close together.
Figure it out!
Category: Short Stories | Stuff
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