The Bad Table

My heart seemed to be actually racing a bit as we approached the door. My wife and I put on our best for this. The maitre d, Paul, dressed in a dark navy suit with bright red pocket handkerchief smiled as I introduced my wife May and informed him that we were delighted to enjoy our special anniversary dinner at Bon Appetit- “A perfect meal at a perfect table” I said with a smile. Paul nodded “Certainly sir”. After a minute of Paul’s  tapping and finger sliding up and down on his screen anxiety crept into the room. “I’m sorry sir but you have no reservation”, he said with a curt, business-like manner indicating this was the final word. 

I quickly pulled out my smartphone and after a few clicks and slides of my own, my smartphone was ready to argue with his computer. “There- it says you have confirmed a perfect table right near the little fountain for 8:00 PM this evening”. Paul stared at it for a few seconds trying to will it away, but my smartphone stood its ground and ignored Paul’s piercing stare. “Sir, I must apologize to you and your lovely wife- we must have deleted your reservation by mistake. I will be back in a minute. Please wait.” I scanned the room- it did not look promising. I noted a single patron at a corner table being served his creme brulee. Maybe we could wait or try to hurry him along. But Paul returned- “Right this way”.

The table near the kitchen door was hastily erected and set. As the kitchen doors opened every 15 seconds we were treated to a cacophony of kitchen noises in between our romantic sentences. We ducked as trays of food flew out of the kitchen on the short journey to eager patrons. I explained to Paul, this would not do. 

Our new table was quiet. We did have a nice candle and dining alfresco was unusual for Bon Appetit. There was no reference to outdoor dining on their website. Our waiter, Mark, assured us that we would be well taken care of so we accepted this gesture. The breeze was refreshing, but we were awfully close to the dumpster and occasionally the winds blew directly from it to our table. We only wish Mark could be as ever present. Unfortunately after the water was poured, we were forgotten. 

I was determined to make the evening memorable. After all, May has put up with my deficiencies for 40 years and a few days. I excused myself and told May, “I will fix this”. I walked away and leaned against the light pole, searching, tapping and talking in a low voice. I thought I may have channeled Boggart at the Casablanca airport- only this time I would not fly away from my true love. Returning, I flashed a smile to Ingrid- I mean May- “It’ll all be OK”. We shared a few stories of our travels and adventures- good and bad. May was quite a sport about this but finally said- “You know, we could do this over at Burger King- they’re open late”. I checked my watch and prevailed upon her to take a walk to the fountain at the center of the mall- “It’ll be romantic”.

We sat at an empty table by the big fountain. We were alone at this late hour. The noisy fast food crowd was long gone. Even the stores were suddenly created ghost towns. Manikins were our only distant companions. After more stories and memories she looked at her watch. May explained, “Burger King would probably have a quiet table in the corner at this hour”. 

I almost spilled the beans when a gray panel truck pulled up. Jim waved and brought over a big bag. Jim’s name tag drew May’s attention- “World of Party Goods- Jim”. He smiled and said “Congratulations” , putting a big bag down beside me. In a moment he was away. May was puzzled.  Instead of waiting for events to unfold, her curiosity compelled her to inquire-  “What’s going on?”. I responded- “All will be revealed soon”. Just then, a green panel truck pulled up. After another wave, May began to get the picture.

Mark from Bon Appetit apologized profusely and went about his work. He quickly set the table with the party goods just delivered, along with the candle provided by his boss- Paul. My call for a takeout delivered to this fountain was apparently intercepted by Paul. I suspect beneath Paul’s aloof attitude was a romantic French heart. By way of apology, Mark was assigned to serve us without charge- including the fine bottle of Cabernet. Bon Apettit may be on my favorite’s list for special occasions. 

The French onion soup and escargot were the perfect start. This was followed by chicken confit and salmon en papillote. At heaven’s door we concluded with creme brule’… a fitting end. Take me now, Lord. This was the best meal and the best table ever. “Bon,” we uttered softly in unison as our glasses clinked. Mark bowed a bit- ”Oui”. 

Burger King will have to wait til tomorrow night.