After-Dinner Hijinks

Posts on five consecutive days? Have I gone mad?

Eh, debatable – but as I mentioned, I was in Baltimore last weekend, so I assume Cal Ripken’s ironman spirit has given way to my own similar streak here on this blog. Said streak will of course be broken tomorrow.

While in Baltimore, I went out to dinner with my family at a restaurant overlooking the Inner Harbor, a dining experience which was downright beautiful and worth the reasonable price.

There was an optimal amount of sophistication at the restaurant – nice lighting, a blind piano player – with a minimum of expectation in the way of a dress code.

The service was magnificent. Our waiter, whose name I forgot almost immediately, was a nice young man with a pinky ring, a soul patch, and a surely learned habit of offering encouragement and approval of everything we asked for:

Me: “I’d like a bowl of French Onion Soup…”
Waiter: “Definitely.”
Me: “…and the Salmon…”
Waiter: “Yes. Absolutely.”

I’d never seen anything like it but it was GREAT. I’d like to hire similar help to get me through my normal day:

Me: “I think I’ll wear my shoes today.”
Helper: “Yes. Definitely.”
Me: “And, what the hell, some socks underneath them, too.”
Helper: “Absolutely. Wonderful.”

The waiter’s extreme politeness was a small touch, and surely not reserved for us, but it was very nice nonetheless.

After a hearty meal, he asked us if we wanted dessert or coffee.

Now, for the last few months I’ve been high on ordering Amontillado, a sherry that’s real tasty that is also in the title of an Edgar Allen Poe story. I saw it on the menu at a restaurant in New York City and had to get it. I enjoyed it, so now I blather on about it at restaurants I think might have it in stock and also in certain websites I maintain. I ordered it once at the Olive Garden but the lady didn’t have it and I got my come-uppance for ordering something so ridiculous.

Anyway, back in Baltimore, I looked at the dessert menu and also saw a list of drinks, the Port and Sherry list. I scrolled down to see a particular brand for a price that was nice and when the time came I asked my helpful and male waiter for:

Me: “A Dry Sack, please?”

To which he replied:

Waiter: “Certainly. Of course.”

Of course.

Luckily, Dry Sack is a brand of sherry. And though the waiter seemed terribly accommodating about everything, I’m not sure THAT was on the menu.

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