advice from colleagues and friends, I had chosen a South Beach French
restaurant for our Thursday night special dinner. The occassion:
Sarah's 30th birthday.
It was supposed to be an evening of dazzle, special smiles, and
stylish dining. Like those college-era, romantic dating days when I
would turn on the charm at will. It was not to be.
As I parallel-parked the car in a side street close to the restaurant
I threw my back out so badly, I could hardly walk. I still find it ridiculous, even writing about it! This was minutes after jokingly telling Sarah that her youth was over!
This was only the start. As the we - Sarah the birthday girl and the
Hunchback of Notre Dame - stumbled into the French restaurant, Sarah
informed me that she does not eat French food. Did I not know this?
Did I not do a bit of planning first? After all, this is her 30th birthday. It's supposed to be special!
Things are a little hazy due to the excruciating pain in my back, but I think I
convinced her that there are a Plan B - another restaurant I chose,
just in case. Close by. We parked in Beach Rd, South Beach, and proceeded to
Fox Cafe. She daintily in her pretty outfit, me shuffling along like a crab,
hunched over from the pinched nerve.
Then it started pouring without any prior warning - Miami-style - and we darted as wet as drowning rats, through the nearest door. It turned out to be a gay male bar where we
waited out the tropical thunder storm -not the intimate, romantic atmosphere I envisioned for Sarah's 30th, but what the heck - she liked the music.
We finally had our dinner at (See pic) Fox Cafe (The worst food I've ever tasted, and the patio roof leaked in the driving rain.) and Sarah were able to show great character and laugh about the experience. What a gal!
Happy birthday Princess!
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