The first time we went I don’t think there were any reservations made, and there was a very long line.
There was a group that we saw making their way up the line asking, “How many in your party?” When they came to us we told them our number (I think there were six of us). “Oh perfect!” They explained that they had reserved the Pope’s table, which requires a party of at least 12, and half their people were out sick. They asked us to join them and we accepted.
We sat at the table. Their party sat at one half and ours on the other. This restaurant is a family style one. Each dish may feed anywhere from two to six people, so the waitresses have to help coordinate the amount of food ordered. Together our parties had to explain to our waitress that we were actually two separate groups and show where the dividing lines were. She referred to us has her “happily divided table” the whole night. – She had no idea, and at this point neither did we.
Once we were all finally settled in and the food was ordered the other group began the “getting to know you process”. They found out that there was a birthday girl in our group, and they told us they were also celebrating a birthday. Their birthday boy was a meek stick figure with an almost sickly pale dirty-hippy-vegan look. I’m betting he smelled like dirt.
Our drinks came first. For our side it was beer, beer, beer, rum & coke, whiskey, and beer. Then their drinks came in…water, water, ice tea, lemonade, water, and water. Some one from the vegan group asked us how we all knew each other and one of the guys said, “We’re all co-workers.”
“Oh where do you work?” They ask. And then Kurt happened.
Kurt of course can’t help himself, so without missing a beat he says, “They work together in the gay porn industry” pointing to two of our guys. Dead silence. There was pretty much no further communication between the two groups. Then we heard one woman in their group ask another person, “So are you still at the seminary school?”
“No I’m on sabbatical.” He says. There was much snickering from our side.
Our food came first and our side went silent except for the sounds of dishes being passed, scraping silverware against dishes, and other scarfing of food like sounds just short of pigs rooting in mud. Then their food came. When all the dishes were set down they quietly bowed their heads and gathered in prayer. Some of us stopped, looked up, briefly wondered if they should stop out of respect, and then blocked the thought and continued eating away.
At the end of dinner their birthday boy presented our birthday girl with a card, and in it he wrote his number. – Creepy!