I am never early for anything in my life. And I’m barely ever on time. Late. Late. Late. So when I arrived at my friend Whitney’s bridal shower at exactly 11 am—showered, hung over, and pleased with my sexy parking spot with 51 minutes already stacked in the meter—I was of course, very proud of myself. Then I tried to open the door and it was locked. Yea, Farmers & Fishers wasn’t open. Panic. The manager came over and unlocked the door.
Manager: “We’re not open yet, we open at 11:30.”
Me: <Took a step back, swinging head from side to side, am I at the right restaurant? What day is it? Am I that hung over? Fuck.> “Um.”
Manager: “Are you here for the bridal shower.”
Me: <Phew!!!> “Yes.”
Manager: “It doesn’t start until 12. But you’re welcome to sit at the bar and wait.”
Me: <Are you FUCKING KIDDING ME?!?! The bar! I can’t even look at alcohol. Kill me.> Oh man. I’m never early for anything. Thanks. And where can I get some change for my meter?”
Manager: “The bar.”
After feeding the meter, I play on my iPhone for an hour (at the seat next to the host stand), mostly flipping through pictures of magnificent dresses on the Style.com app. When we get in the private room I’m offered wine. Instead I ask for a Coke.
Server: “We don’t have Coke…”Read More›