So, we went out to dinner. It's been so long that neither of us remember when the last time was. We do know that it was the same restaurant we just went to and that it was too cold to sit outside. Oh, and that I had a Cherry Coke, which Kevin would have sworn his life's blood that I don't drink.
The waitress thought this was hilarious and played along, especially when I nearly shouted "I posted a photo on the instagram!!" "Oh, she has the receipts!" she laughs as I'm searching my phone for evidence.
We are both getting a little cranky and frustrated with life in general - go figure - so Kevin suggested we go eat at one of our favorite restaurants. Washington State has been in Phase Three for two weeks so it feels a little time to venture outside of our germ bubble.
Between the time we decided to go and actual arrival, the weather had changed a little. It was chilly and the sun was starting to go down. It is March, after all, and the restaurant is in a marina. So I hesitated on sitting outside. Also, the A.D.D. did not dress appropriately for outside, our original plan, because of course not. A.D.D. likes the adventure and needs a story to tell.
When we walked into the restaurant, it was "busy" at only near half capacity. It was weird to see a big table with about eight people. It was frustrating to see a couple waiting for a table and the gentleman was not wearing a mask. Kevin had stepped forward to check in and I pulled his sleeve with a look askew to the rulebreaker to make some space. I didn't realize how vigilant I'd become or how much this was going to bother me.
And this is where I feel myself start to spin. People, after not peopling much in the past year. Adulting.
Then another couple came in behind us and they were in their late sixties, early seventies; both wearing masks. Kevin chats with them because he's never met a stranger in his entire life. The hostess came to seat us and asked if we wanted inside or outside. Inside would be a bit of a wait but outside there was one table left.
I hesitated, because I knew I wasn't dressed for outside and I was trying to problem-solve. Kevin said "The lovely folks behind us would like you to make a decision so they can have dinner." Which kicked my brain into gear: "We'll sit outside so they can sit inside." And we proceeded to our table.
It wasn't PLEASANT but it wasn't unbearable. Wrought iron chairs and tables in the cold isn't my jam but I felt better eating outside. Kevin even went to the truck to make sure we didn't have a towel or extra hoodie stored in there, because this isn't our first time in this situation. (my truck does, his truck not so much)
Be right back...gotta go get two hoodies and towel for the truck...
We finished dinner, which took longer to arrive than usual, then waited for the check. Other than it's one of our favorite restaurants and they recognize us, I would have seriously considered dine and dashing. I mean, seriously, slow service when people are sitting outside is not a good look.
Kevin finally went inside to ask for the check. I didn't see it happen, but the elderly lady who was behind us asked if we were okay, were we too cold? Kevin explained that it was fine and she needn't worry. "Well, I heard her say that she gave up a table inside for us and I felt bad. She looks cold." Awwww, heart emojis. "You can come sit with us, there's room." Double heart emojis and one shocked face.
He assured her we were fine and that we were leaving anyway. "You don't need to worry and you certainly don't need to take any risks." he says to her. She laughed and flustered, he reports. Older ladies LOVE Kevin.
While a rocky start, we're glad we went. We got something warm to drink on the way home and felt satisfied that we had successfully ventured outside of our germ bubble. And brought dinner home for the next night so all.the.winning.
It's just going to take some getting used to. The loss of quiet and slow, the interactions, losing the vigilance. It's all going to take some time to acclimate back to how it used to be. But we did it.
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