Good morning all. I hope everyone had a fabulous weekend with much relaxation and resting up. Aside from a strange dream where I glued prosthetic horns to my head for a costume party and then was unable to remove them, I had a fantastic weekend. And the dream was more amusing than anything so no harm done. Shall we get started on this new week of ours with a new writing prompt? Good, sharpen those pencils and set those timers because here we go.
I changed the point of view and shifted he to she as I wrote, but I kind of liked it. I can’t wait to find out what happened at the restaurant.
Monday, June 7th: The meal was one he would always remember.
The meal was one he would always remember. The restaurant was one of the most fashionable at the time. It was praised by food critics and designers as a triumph. The atmosphere, the lighting, the positioning of the tables and the food were all a chorus of fabulousness.
Everyone agreed.
Tables were merely impossible to secure, at least in the first six months. Awards showered down like rain. Gradually the newness wore off. The food was still good and the atmosphere divine, but those who roamed the gastronomic universe moved on looking for the next big thing.
The restaurant hadn’t gone into decline. It just sort of seemed to take a breath as the originality seekers left and those who simply loved good food remained.
Beneath the hype, beneath the artful décor, the food was good. Consistently good. And the atmosphere in which it was served was still impressive.
It was in those days where the newness was gone and the tables moved from an impossibility to attainable with effort, that we arrived. We were not naturally among the glittering throng. A night like this at a place like this was our once a year treat. We booked far in advance securing a spot in the distant future and then waited patiently for our turn to dine.
Each year we chose a different restaurant and then waited. Little did we know that this night would be our last.
It started as all of our gastronomic adventures, with the choosing of the attire. In some of the restaurants the dress code was strict, in others, more relaxed. We all used it as an excuse to add a little something special to our wardrobes and shopped accordingly. Sometimes the entire ensemble was new. Other times it was an excuse to add one special item, like shoes or jewelry, to the wardrobe.
That night, my shoes were new. Even purchased on sale they cost more than the rest of my outfit combined. I picked them up on sale several months prior and although I had not worn them out before the event of the dinner, I broke them in. Each night I wore them for one hour at home, walking from the kitchen to the lounge and dreaming of wearing them to the restaurant. I wanted them to look new and never to have been seen before on my feet by my friends, but I did not want to pain of wearing a completely new pair of shoes for an entire evening.
As I moved around my place I took great pleasure in the thought of wearing them out. I felt slightly silly wearing them with my comfortable pajama pants as I moved from room to room. My personal embarrassment was tempered by the fact that I knew Lisa was test driving her new earrings each night as well, although in her case I believe she was trying to figure out what outfit showed them off to best advantage.
Ten til Midnight 