This was one of my better weeks. I had gotten a call from a local radio station to let me know I'd won their contest for dinner for two at a very nice and expensive local restaurant. I told my sweetie and we agreed to use it on Saturday night.
So Saturday night came and out we went. She was dressed stunningly in a velvet green dress. I was wearing my good white shirt and khaki slacks and even put on my black leather dress shoes. This was going to be a night to remember.
And it was too but not the way I was expecting.
When we got to the restaurant, reservations ready, the host informed me that we would have to wait. Apparently Martha Stewart was in town with her family and they'd chosen that night to sample the cuisine here, as she'd heard so much about it. They'd taken over the entire restaurant. "We're sorry but we have to make you wait for now. Perhaps in thirty minutes...?"
Crap.
I looked at my sweetie, who was casting about for a book to read. I went out and got the local Boston newspaper while we waited for Ms. Stewart and family to leave. It only took about an hour or so before we were finally seated.
We looked through the menu and were ready to place our order when the host came over to our table. He was making rounds around the room and apologizing profusely but said that due to some difficulty in the kitchen they needed to shut down early for the night. "I'm so sorry, it's beyond my control. We would like you to return, will you accept a gift certificate?"
I was furious at this point. I demanded to know what the problem was. "We've waited for over an hour and you only tell me *now* that you can't serve us? What the hell is wrong?"
He kept a calm face. "I'm sorry, but the chef is quite worn out from cooking for all of those people. They placed quite a strain upon our kitchen and thus we must close for the night."
I groaned and turned to my sweetheart. "It figures," I said...
"Too many Stewarts spoil the cook."
Jacob Sommer
May 8 2001