Jane and I met for lunch yesterday in Louisville at The Irish Rover, because we’d both been hurtin’ for good beer. On the way in, I got up close and personal with a dogwood tree. Our dogwoods haven’t even budded out yet, and these were in full bloom. I always remember when our youngest was little and joked that all the various trees at the head of the drive were dogwoods because the dogs ran around in there.
The preacher had a Children’s Moment about the legend of the dogwood which I won’t even quote here. It sounded highly unlikely to me, although I do know the dogwood is the symbol of the Lutheran church, possibly because of that legend. Oh, well, there’s nothing you can do about symbolism, and I guess it hurts nothing and makes some people all ooohy and happy. But it’s really tempting to make that crap up yourself and see who’d swallow it. (heeeee!)
So anyway, we went to the Rover. I got there first. When I walked in, this GORGEOUS man asked me if I was a Red Hat Lady. I was like, “ExcUUUUUse me?” Then I saw there were a bunch of them at a table, and he was just checking to see if I were one of the party. Still…!! I was like, Am I wearing purple? Am I wearing a red hat? Do I look like an old woman? Well, yes to the last one, but I would have slapped him if he hadn’t been so good looking. I said, “No, I’m meeting a friend. She’ll be here about 11:30.” He said, “That’s fine, because it just so happens that’s when we open for business.” Good looking. No slap. Indulgent chuckle.
Jane came in and damn if she wasn’t wearing purple and a pink jacket. heeee! We ordered our beer. Jane had Flying Dog Imperial Porter and I had Irish Rover Red. I didn’t taste Jane’s, but she said it was delicious. Mine certainly was. If something can be smooth and bitter at the same time, this was. Light but not boring.
I usually get bangers and mash, but last time Jane gave me a taste of her fish and it was so good I got it myself this time. And it was a good choice. It was scrumptious. I didn’t have room for it all, so I ate all the fish and some of the chips. Even the tartar sauce was good, and I usually don’t like tartar sauce.
Our waiter, Nick, was just right–attentive but not pesty. He answered our questions about the beers and helped us choose good ones. He called us “ladies” but not “young ladies”, which is what all too many young men call women of A Certain Age, and is tantamount to saying, “You’re so old it’ll flatter you for me to call you young, even though we both know it’s been a long time since you were my age–assuming you ever were.” Nick didn’t make us feel like our own grandmas. Thanks, Nick!
Here is a picture of Nick being a very good employee and filling the spare moments by doing his side-work. Side-work, in case you’ve never worked in table service (or, like me, had family who did), is the things you do other than wait tables: in this case, roll flatware up in napkins. Nick told me he’s a writer, so I look forward to seeing his name in print and/or electronics.
After we left the Rover, we went to the Java for coffee. Then we went to the car and traded swag. I’m STILL cleaning out my office and had some books and magazines Jane accepted and she loaned me the rest of Jim Butcher’s Harry Dresden books. Wheeeee! BTW, Jim Butcher is going to be interviewed on Bitten by Books at the end of this month (April). I have links to Bitten by Books and to Jim Butcher’s sites on my blogroll here. I encourage you to check them out. He rocks.
Writing prompt: Talk to somebody about the ins and outs of his or her job. Take note of the jargon and the activities involved that you never thought about.