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Sep
19
I left hotel room 203 today to give the housekeeping staff access. Andy’s at a meeting all day, and I’d seen a Chili’s restaurant on the way to the hotel yesterday, so I decided to hoof it on down for a bite to eat.
It was most pleasant outside (the “it” being the weather), and being outside in a strange place made me feel small. Not in the sense of dress size small (which I’m working on - I joined the gym last week, just before I left town), but in the cosmic sense of small, and these days I’ll take small any way I can get it. There were no sidewalks, so I had to walk on the edge of the road with all the smushed bottle caps and shards of glass.
I made it to the restaurant, entered through the To Go door, then made my way around to the front where I was greeted by the most friendly guy then served by a very nice waitress called Sandra - who loved my hair, my shirt, “the entire package” as she said. (Yes, I managed to remember the compliment at the end of the meal and tip her accordingly.) On my way out, the greeter guy (who was by then wrapping cutlery in napkins in anticipation of the supper crowd) stopped me to ask if I enjoyed my lunch. Then he wanted to know about the book I’m reading (The Cloister Walk) and understood completely when I explained that I’m reading it because I’m going to a writers’ retreat led by this particular author so I’m wanting to be prepared in case there’s a test.
I left the restaurant via the To Go door from whence I had entered, and decided to go back on the other side of the street this time, hoping there’d be less glass to navigate around (protecting my sandled feet). I went from the restaurant parking lot, through the next parking lot, then spied some concrete steps leading up to a building with a large “O” on the side of it. Thinking it was one of those large office supply stores (which meant another large parking lot) (which meant easier walking with less broken glass), I went up the steps.
But they did NOT lead to one of those big office supply stores. I don’t even want to think about what the large “O” represents because at the top of the steps, according to the sign painted on the front door, I found myself standing right smackdab in front of The Men’s Club.
And from the looks of things, they don’t sell suits or hair plugs there.
Since I was already there, I walked right on through that parking lot, counting all the little fish symbols on the back of the cars parked there as I went.
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