The Lunch that Almost Wasn't

I'm giving up on the Christmas Challenge. Today's topic was goals for 2012 (I have none) and tomorrow is the last day, so ... it was fun. I'm glad I did it. I miss Holidailies (the OLD Holidailies, not what it was last year). But things change and it's time to move on...or back...or something.

Today I had a lunch date with my friend K. We get together once a month at Olive Garden and get caught up. I met her first waaaaay back when we both were nursing babies and working with La Leche League. Our paths crossed off and on through the years, but about 12 or 13 years ago, we decided to make it a regular thing and we've been doing this lunch semi-regularly for all that time.

We don't talk in between luncheon engagements. Our friendship is just these monthly lunches. But I enjoy learning about her kids and grandkids and telling her about mine.

I left the house early today. I knew that this ride to and from Sacramento would be enough time to finish my book, "Split Second" by David Baldacci. I was just at the exciting climax when I got home from my mother's yesterday. There was an hour left to go of the 16 hour book. By leaving early, I could drive slowly to Sacramento and, if I arrived early, could sit out in the car reading until time to go into the Olive Garden.

Aside: The Olive Garden, where we have eaten for lo these many years, was just rated one of the worst restaurants for treatment of their employees with regard to salaries and benefits But K said she checked and found they were among the best for being gay-friendly. It's hell to be an armchair activist when presented with such facts as these. We decided "gay friendly" trumps "poor salary," since my choice of an alternative restaurant would be Red Lobster and that gets rated on a par with Olive Garden. I decided we could make up for patronizing the restaurant by tipping higher.

There were only 40 min. to go in the book when I went into the restaurant, which would be just enough time to get me home again after lunch.

I was seated in the dining room, having left K's name at the desk for when she arrived -- I don't think there has been a time in all these years when I have NOT arrived first, so I'm used to her being late, but then she is coming from work and I am not!

I couldn't listen to the book in the restaurant, but I had my kindle and my Patricia Cornwell book, so I sat there reading. And reading. And reading. I went to check the time, but the battery was dead pn my iTouch, and I had left my cell phone at home.

Aside: I have yet to find the right way to handle my cell phone. Almost none of my clothes have pockets in them, so either the phone is on a table, or on my desk or in the car or in my purse. And 9 times out of 10, wherever it is when I receive a phone call or a text message is where I am not, so I miss more calls that I take, unless I am actually holding the phone in my hand!

I finally asked a waiter for the time and K was now 15 minutes late. I couldn't call her because her phone # is in my cell phone directory. I finally decided I must have gotten the week wrong--something I am likely to do--because she was never that late.

When we eat together, we order Olive Garden's soup and salad special but since I was going to be eating alone, I decided to splurge and ordered their steak and gorgonzola Alfredo with salad.

I was halfway finished with my salad, when K arrived. She had forgotten our lunch date (as had my mother the day before!) and she had actually tried to call my cell phone (and left a message), but of course the phone was at home so I didn't get the message until after I got back to Davis.

But eventually we had a lovely lunch, once again got caught up again, did our share of political dissection and outrage, and my steak gorgonzola was fabulous. Too big to eat, so Walt lucked out and I brought half of it home for him. And I left a big tip for the waitress since we occupied the table for longer than we should have on a busy Thursday.

Aside: Cute story from one of K's grandchildren, age 4.
"Grandma? When I get big I want to have babies."
"That's very good."
"But they'll have to come out of my vagina, won't they?"
"Yes, they probably will."
[pause]
"I hope my vagina gets bigger by that time."

We hugged goodbye at the end of our lunch. I got back into the car and headed home, and my book finished as I was getting off the freeway in Davis. The book was, of course, a gripper the closer it came to the end. Now I have to decide what I'm going to listen to next time.