It’s the middle of the week, and “Date Night” tonight.  Other than that, I have nothing on my calendar today – isn’t retirement great!  My working wife still recognizes today as Wednesday (Hump Day), but since every day is the same for me in retirement, I distinguish it as “Date Night Day.”  Each day of the week I now associate with a specific activity rather than the traditional “MTWTFSS” labels that working people use.  I know it can be confusing, but “what day it is?” really doesn’t matter to me any more.

I’m a little off on my days this week, since the first day of this week was a holiday for my wife. I now only know the first day of the week as “Trash/Cleaning Day,” and had to combine it with yesterday’s “Cooking Day.”  I also had to put the trash out a day early and call my sister a day late.  By the way, she retired last week from being a school teacher.  The only problem is that she was typically not working in the summers anyway, so it really won’t be until school resumes in August before she begins to enjoy the benefits.  The summer months will give her time to practice her newly defined days of the week.

Today I’m back on track, but where will we go on Date Night?  It has to be somewhere we’ve never dined before, but can be in any price range.  With company in town and our vacation schedule, four weeks ago was our last outing.  Revelry was the name of the restaurant here in Portland, and it was our 1,209th different dining experience in the 17 years we’ve been together.  That’s an average of about 1.4 new restaurants that we’ve gone to every week! Since Revelry, we’ve dined in 14 additional new places while we were traveling.  Typically, it would be more when we’re on the road, but Viking Cruises provided most of our meals in France.

We have had a wide range of dining experiences, and our favorites we save for special occasions.  However, some restaurants have NOT been so great – here’s a poem, written a few years ago, to describe such underwhelming experiences:

 

What’s in my Soup?

What’s that in my bowl?
Is this some kind of joke?
It’s swimming laps,
Perhaps the backstroke.
.
“He won’t each much,”
Replies the waiter.
If he’s not careful,
He’ll wear it later.
.
Humorous old bits,
But nothing is funny.
When you have a bad meal,
While paying good money.
.
Dining disasters.
I’ve had my share.
Expecting well-done,
It comes out rare.
.
Lost reservations,
Poor service.
A closed door Kitchen,
Makes me nervous.
.
Not what you ordered?
Too well done?
Or something flies out,
When you lift up the bun.
.
A worm in your veggies,
A spider in your greens.
That’s garden fresh,
Is all that means.
.
Crack a tooth?
Piece of glass?
Or maybe worse yet,
A bad case of gas.

.

I once found a staple,
At a Chinese Buffet.
What’s this sticky stuff,
On my serving tray?

.
Is that a hair on my plate?
Or just a crack?
In either case,
Please take it back.
.
Is today’s special,
A few days old?
Is that blue cheese,
Or some kind of mold?
.
And when dining outside,
Take extra care.
Things can happen,
From out of nowhere.
.
Here’s an example,
That threw me for a loop.
A bird flew over,
And pooped in my soup.

.

Copyright 2012

johnstonwrites.com