Coincidence

A chain my man likes is having an anniversary week thing, where they have a special for each day this week. So, though we typically go around once a month or two, we’ve gone four times this week now.

Tonight, we had to pick up my car from having work done on it – covered under manufacturer’s warranty, the window regulator broke, if you recall that as having happened just after my jury summons stuff had ended – across town, so we went to a different location of the restaurant.

After we’ve been seated and ordered our beverages and first round of appetizers and it’s all come out, our waiter takes a little time to chat with us. The section is not busy at the moment, so we think nothing of it. (You can tell this is going somewhere now, though…) He asks if we come often tot he restaurant. We mention how we do not normally come very often, but that we have come almost every day this week for the fun specials. We give various details about it, and we all laugh about how ridiculous it all is.

The waiter casually asks if we normally come to this location and if we’ve been coming here all week, and we easily explain that, no, we haven’t. We’ve been going to this other location, which is by where we live and where we normally go. And he says, ‘Oh, so you were there on Monday night,’ and we say that we were.

And just before my man, as is quite common at times, dives into some other comment that kind of cuts off someone else, the waiter adds, “I remember y’all. I saw y’all there.”

……..

My man, somehow, completely misses this casually commented fun-fact, and just keeps sharing about something related dinner that night and the specials we had all had at our table (my brother and sister-in-law had been with us). I dive in about Really?! You did?! You were there?! We’re you working?! And he says where he was seated, just by the hostess stand. I misunderstand briefly and ask if it was on the side by the bar, which was where we had been, with only a Hispanic family right near us that I could recall, though someone else had been there first… At this point, my man is listening newly, realizing that he clearly missed something in the conversation, and he catches up quickly.

We clarify where our waiter had been sitting, and that he had seen me waiting by the hostess stand on my own first, and then with my man, once he had arrived (the wait was long that night, even though we’d gotten on the wait list long before arriving in person), and before we went to the bar to get a round of the discounted drink (and then were seated almost immediately at our actual table). As it turned out, he had wanted to have the special that night – it was $1/chicken wing and $2 (certain) draft pints, though I suspect he wasn’t old enough for the latter – but was embarrassed to go eat at the restaurant where he worked, so he went to the next closest location… where he saw us standing right by his table for fifteen minutes or so. 😛

Pretty silly and bizarre, to be sure, but I’m really glad he told us. He even said that he recognized us immediately, but that he didn’t want to start off the waiter-patron relationship that way, too intensely right off the bat. It was a good call. We would have been fine with it, but it was the safer bet and we probably enjoyed it even more discovering it after establishing a positive rapport with the kid. We ended up having a great time at dinner tonight, and had a surprisingly good time chatting off and on with our sweet (and good quality) waiter. It was really fun, and I’m so glad we stopped at it all worked out as it did.(!)

Thank you, God, for this surprise blessing. Thank you for this life. Help us to see clearly our next step, please. Help Dylan(sp?) to find his next step, especially in regards to University and his own development Persia lulu and academically. In your name, I pray. Amen.

Post-a-day 2023

‘One Spanish-speaking Boyfriend, please’

I said to myself yesterday that I needed a native-Spanish-speaking boyfriend, or else a native-Spanish-speaking friend, because I need Spanish in my life, and I need to use the language more than I currently do (hardly at all).

Tonight, at dinner, the waiter, who might also be the manager or owner or something, brought over to our table a handsome-looking young man, probably right around my own age, and explained that the guy knows very little English, and, if I would like, would be willing to work with me on improving my Spanish, if I would help him learn English.  And no, I hadn’t told him about yesterday’s declaration.

Isn’t life awesome? 😀

To give a little context, – the waiter was not being crazy or anything, with his suggestion that the helper and I work on language together – I had asked the waiter, after interacting with him a few times in English, if he would speak to us in Spanish from now on.  My mom had studied Spanish in high school, and then briefly in college, and has had plenty of interactions with Spanish in the years since then.  I spent a summer in Spain while in high school, and had just used Spanish all over for a couple years after that.  So, while it could be difficult at times, I figured we could handle it.

The waiter was delighted at the request, and instantly spewed out fast Spanish.  My mom told him almost immediately (in Spanish), “But you have to speak more slowly, because I am a gringa.”  (It’s essentially a term for foreigners.)  We all laughed, and he acquiesced.

As the meal went on, the waiter would pause and chat with us here and there.  He moved here from Mexico when he was 17 or 19 (I forget which), and don’t even know how to say ‘please’ in English.  To help himself learn English, he watched the American movies, and had on the English subtitles, and action I fully approve and support, and which I have done plenty myself.  He also spoke of how strong the Spanish-speaking community is in Houston, and that I need only get involved, and they will turn me into a Latina.  He learned that we are not studying Spanish; that I speak Spanish, but just never use it; that I just lived back from Japan; and that I just have no friends here who speak Spanish.  So it made sense that he brought over the guy later.  And it wasn’t weird.

When we left, a while later, I gave the young guy my number on a napkin.

Post-a-day 2017