a change of plans (lyn)

It turns out that three good friends (not two) are going out for dinner, and they consciously pick a place that is inexpensive and has many low-cal options, despite its name, Pesce Pasta.  It’s also a big football night (the playoffs) and Alexander has a friend over to watch the game; he’s not disappointed that I have plans.

I go to dinner.  I ignore the lo-cal options and order veal marsala (a lot of points but worth it).  Since I skip the bread, the Caesar salad, and know I’ll have no dessert, I don’t feel guilty.  The meal is balanced with a few scalloped potatoes, lots of broccoli, one glass of red wine, and many laughs.  When we arrive for our 8:45 reservation, the restaurant is brimming with people and every table is taken.  We need to wait about 30 minutes before being seated.  But by the time we leave, every table, except for ours and one other, is empty.

We pass the bar on the way out, where a few people remain.  One is a man in shorts.  It’s 16 degrees out.  I can’t help but ask why he’s wearing shorts.  “Because they’re comfortable,” he says.  Just like my evening.  I am so glad I went.