Dessert for dinner

So last night, I made arrangements to have dinner with my friend Arlene at a tony place in the magical city of Upper Arlington, Ohio.

Upper Arlington.  Euphonious, Upper Arlington!

Well not really.  Its a really bland community, architecturally.

Anyhow its been seven years.  And in walks Arlene and first of all, she is looking amazing.  Not what she was wearing, but radiating this glow of health and good karma.  And she is rocking a twenty something body on a older model body.

So we sit down and order our cocktails - and this is a nice place opened by a local restaurateur with a very good track record and we chat and no dink, and we chat and no drink and finally I get up to find out where the drinks are and our server said they were on the way, so Arlene and went back to chatting, and the drinks arrive.

The wrong drinks.

Cookie ordered a Vodka Gibson.  Cookie was served a Martini.  Cookie ascribes to the same philosophy as Dashiell Hammett that  "gin is for old ladies."

Arlene ordered a Cookie Sidecar (standard sidecar, but ditch the triple sec and in place, St. Germaine) what she got was booze in a martini glass.

So we call the server over and ask about our drinks.   Her reply? "What can I do to make this right?"  Arlene says, that the right drinks would be the right place to start.  The server nods, but she seems a bit "off" her game.

Manager comes over apologizes, drinks on the house, says she.

Awesome.

In the middle of of our conversation the server disappears and the manager comes over and we learn that "Lori" will be our new server.  "Mandy had an emergency."

Arlene asked if she was fine and the manager said she hoped so.

Fine.  So Arlene and deep in a discussion on media, which is her field of expertise - former news anchor - and Lori comes over and delivers the dessert.  Which was great.  "But what happened to our fried chicken and waffles?"

Evidently Mandy must have been sent home, because a lot of weird got served up in that section.

It was a weird dinner dessert before salad, and all.

The manager came over and Arlene, ever the charmer said "who in their right mind would send back that a delicious looking dark chocolate tort? "

"Of course I am going to eat it!"

So the manager, feeling horrible, left the tort, brought out our entrees when we signaled, and dinner went a little upsey daisey out of order.

The cherry on top?  All of it was comped. And we got gift cards!

So Arlene got out and envelope out of her purse, wrote Mandy's name on it and slipped a twenty into it with a note ('We all have off nights.  Hope this makes things better.  Reach higher than tonight, and everything will work its way out.') and gave to the manager.  We also gave Lori a nice tip, too.

The manager couldn't thank us enough.  "You know, people today have every right to expect us to get it right, and I am taking steps....next time..."

But Arlene's good mood rubbed off on me as well.  "It's a meal, not Judgement at Nuremberg."

Arlene reminded me to embrace the least expected turns and twists in life.  "Besides, make me feel like a kid again."

"You know, there is so much in the world that isn't right, why do people let a FUBAR dinner, but with really good food ruin an evening.  Hate injustice, fight for rights.  But LOVE the people you are with and make memories."

Its good to have friends who put the fun and love into your lives.