And Good Morning.
I guess it’s been two months since I’ve written anything here. Every time I think I have something to write about, it turns into a rant, leading from one disconnected thought to another. My mind is jumbled.
Oh, I know! I’ll write about all the changes we’ve seen since Covid hit two years ago. Then, the first thing that comes to mind is how Covid was used to begin the destruction of this country. But there are some good things happening, right? And then I pause and look up to the heavens to think of one of those things. Here it is. Restaurants are open again. In fact, I have a funny story.
Sven and I went out one Saturday night a few months back to one of our favorite Italian restaurants downtown. They were one of the first to reopen after the initial shutdown and were able to remain open throughout Covid Times. I know most restaurants have had trouble keeping their employees, so maybe they go with whoever they can get. I don’t have a problem with that. I’m glad some people are working and businesses are trying to succeed with less experienced workers. Anyway, I digress.
Our waitress, an older woman with unkempt hair, blue jeans that probably fit her 20 years ago, and a faded t-shirt that would have made her look hot in the 1960s, took our drink order. I only mention this because the rest of the waitstaff was dressed in black pants, white dress shirts and a narrow black neckties. “Two dry gin martinis, with olives, please.” She looked at me and said, “Can I see an ID?” I thought she was joking. But I stopped chuckling when she stood there waiting to see my ID. My husband didn’t get ID’d and I’m two years older than him. And, seriously, I will be the first to tell anyone that I look my age. So what was that all about?
After that little drama, we got our martinis and enjoyed our meal. It was toward the end of my ravioli that I mentioned to Sven that I really felt buzzed. He said he did, too. Now, we are no strangers to dry gin martinis. When we got up to leave we could hardly walk straight. Luckily the drive home is a straight shot, otherwise I have no recollection of how we got there. I do remember the room was spinning after going to bed. I think the last time that happened, I was in college.
It’s pretty hard to mess up a gin martini. Putting too much of one or the other alcohols wouldn’t make the drink stronger. And our martinis were served in traditional martini glasses, without ice. So I ask you, were Sven and I slipped a Mickey?
Adios
Musings over 50 