In terms of romantic gestures, we are pretty much what ducks are to calculus. That's why we weren't really thinking too much when we scheduled a restaurant review on 14 February. When the restaurant's hostess told us the only moment tables would be available that night were around the times one is still contemplating lunch, or long after decent people are fast asleep, we remembered. Oh yeah, it's Valentine's Day. We were already covered in the gift department, of course. Living near a 24-hour Walgreens has its advantages. So we opted for the late lunch opening, knowing that, at our ages, my wife and I and the two women who accompany us often on reviews, those Early Bird Specials start to, you know, sound kind of attractive.
Nice place—very nice and you’ll be reading a glowing account of it soon in the magazine—and after ordering, we were strolling through, making mental notes for the review. As we passed the hostess, she said, "Excuse me. We're all wondering..." She paused. "Is this a special Valentine’s Day for you?" We’re slow. But not that slow. Looking around, at all the couples, we realized we were making our way back to the table with three women along with a young person who thinks of us as his father because, reliable word has it, we are. It was one of those moments when you either seize it, tackle it and knock it down and drain it dry of every bit of enjoyment it might provide, or you pass it by. We weren't about to let it pass.
"Have you ever watched Big Love on HBO?," we said.
Best Valentine's Day ever. --Dave Lowry, interim Restaurant Critic and Senior Fashion Consultant
