The Menu Moment

More often than not, Jeff and I would visit one of our favorite diners on a Friday night. More often than not, I’d spend a lot of time reviewing the menu and then need more time when the waitress came by. This befuddled him. “We’ve been here before,” he’d tease. “It’s the same menu they had last time we were here!”

I’d explain that I just wasn’t sure what I felt like eating and then pick two items to continue to debate with myself until the waitress returned. I’d tell Jeff, “I’m not sure if I want the turkey dinner or a Reuben,” or some other combination of two dissimilar choices. When it was time to give my order, more often than not, I’d request something I hadn’t mentioned, like an omelet or a tuna melt. Jeff would laugh with glee. Shaking his head slightly, he’d jokingly ask, “Where’d that come from?”

As we left our first visit to the bridal mall, and unlocked our car, the owner earnestly asked, “Are you definitely interested in the space?”

“Oh, yes,” I answered immediately, nodding at Jeff. His smile lit up.

“Do you know for sure what kind of store you want it to be?” she asked.

“Yes.” Jeff immediately answered. “A gift shop.”

“Or…” I began in a definitive voice used to imply we’d thought about this hard and long and were completely confident in our future success. “… a hot sauce store.”

To his complete credit, Jeff never batted an eye or looked at me good-naturedly dumb-founded as he often did when I had an off the wall idea or unexpectedly changed my mind about dinner.

In fact, he said nothing. Our friends said nothing. The owner said nothing, so I asked when we could come back and sign the lease.

To Jeff’s credit, he simply smiled and tucked himself into the car waving goodbye and saying we’d be back in a few days.

When he did react, it was very slowly. He moved his bottom jaw over the side a bit and worried his lip a bit, as if he was sure he hadn’t heard what he’d heard.

“Why did you say that?” he asked, as we pulled out of the drive.

“Because,” I answered. “I think it’s what we should do.”

“But, where did that come from?” he questioned. “It’s not bridal themed…”

“It think it could be,” I told him.

Jeff said nothing more than, “Let’s go to the diner for dinner.”

The diner closest to home was the one we usually went to for breakfast. So, I was checking out the dinner menu, when the waitress arrived. I needed a minute, so the waitress left and I perused some more. “Hmm,” I said. “Not sure if I feel like meatloaf or lasagna.”

Jeff recommended the meatloaf. When the waitress returned and asked for my order, I asked her opinion. She said the meatloaf was very good. I nodded my head, handed over my menu and announced, “I’d like a tuna melt, on rye, please.”

Jeff shook his open menu in exaggerated surprise, then boomed out a laugh at the confused look on our waitresses face. “Don’t worry, …” he joked, pointing his menu at me for emphasis. “That…” he continued with the utmost sincerity, “was just her havin’ a menu moment.”

He snapped closed his menu, handed it over, ordered ham and bean soup and … the meatloaf dinner.

With that settled and with obvious curiosity, he politely questioned, “ sooooo … a hot sauce store?”

Quote for the Week:

2017 10 03 sometimes it takes decisively choosing heads or tails jakorte

Enjoy This Week’s Discovery Links:

Diner: Menus

Menu: Trends

Menus: Interesting

 

Good Measure

When I picture our couples decision-making conversations, I realize I did a lot of pulling.

Carpet Outlet Plus was just down the road from our new home. We’d first gone in to look at possibly replacing the blood red carpet. Realizing it wasn’t going to be immediately affordable, Jeff was still convinced I’d grow out of my dislike.

Jeff got sidetracked in the carpet-tile section by an enter-to-win opportunity. He never missed an opportunity to enter a raffle.  If there was a box to put your name in, he’d put his name in. “You can’t win if you don’t enter,” he’d say. He’d also happily field the predictable sales calls that usually followed.

We wandered around a little on the way out just to be sure we hadn’t missed something, and we had. A small section of the warehouse displayed a few all assembly required Sauder line samples.

I had been thinking maybe a book shelf or two would solve the laundry room’s no-cabinets dilemma. There weren’t any book cases, but there was an armoire that seemed even better because it had doors to hide the supplies behind. We knew it would be a discount flooring warehouse with

Picturing it, I immediately had my heart set on a white one. Jeff preferred the wood faux-finish. Of course, there were only light and dark wooden finishes in the size I thought would fit. “It just looks nicer,” he said, politely trying to sway me. “Oh,” I responded, bluntly. “I think the fake stuff looks cheap.” “Oh.” he said. “Hmmm.”

Around the next bend there was a much larger, white double cabinet.  “Hey, look! It’s white!” Jeff smiled, assuring me that it would fit where it needed to fit. I didn’t think so. I argued that it would stick out too far into the doorway and crowd the space. We realized we’d have to go home to measure.

On the way out, my chicken radar activated. My swiveling eyes locked on a chicken clock. It was a rather large, regular round clock with a chicken feed motif, metal movements and an antique finish. It was $52 dollars, though, which was about half the cost of the large cabinet.  We considered that, then, left empty-handed with a “maybe someday” agreement.

Off we went to Lowe’s. They didn’t have what we wanted, either. But, as long as we were there, we went in search of lampshades for the bedside lamps that came along with the bedroom suite. It’s funny now that we didn’t know we’d need to know what size shade we needed. We didn’t have a clue, so we gave up shopping, went home and measured for both items.

The following week, Jeff received a call from the carpet store, informing him that he had the won the weekly drawing. The prize was a gift certificate. We took our measurements with us and came to the conclusion that the larger cabinet would fit nicely, giving us more storage space.

As we were completing the sale at the cashier desk, I pointed out to Jeff that the chicken clock was no longer where it had been.  “The chicken clock?” the woman behind the desk asked. “Yes,” I said. “It was hanging in that space right behind you.”

“Oh,” she pointed. “You mean that chicken clock over there? That’s the last one and it’s been marked down.”  Jeff asked me if I wanted it. I replied, “I don’t know…” “Well, how much is it?” he asked. It was $28 dollars.

Jeff nodded his head and told the lady we’d take it. “We will?” I squeaked. “Yeah.” He went on to  adamantly explain, “We were gonna buy a cabinet anyway, so we’ll just use the gift certificate for it. It’s like a little bonus!”

We stood in the parking lot a moment shaking and scratching our heads. Somehow, we stuffed the flat-boxed armoire and the chicken clock into the Neon, and headed home.

Quote for the Week:

2017 03 14 lucky enough to enter jakorte

Enjoy this Week’s Discovery Links:

Furniture:  Good Measure

Carpet :  Good Measure

Carpet Outlet Plus:  A Very Good Measure