Birthday Dinner 2016

The woods are lovely, dark and deep,
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep.

February 23, 2016

Today would have been Kathy’s 61st birthday.
I am going to celebrate with a nice steak dinner. Kathy always liked a nice steak.
For reasons that I will not go into here, I did not celebrate the birthday in this way last year, but I think it might become a tradition.

Fleming’s is a good steakhouse. I am thinking of a ribeye, though a porterhouse would be more historically accurate. When we first met, Kathy would grill porterhouse steaks for us on a hibachi grill on the little patio behind her apartment in Long Beach. But these days, I prefer the ribeye.

Reservation made for 7:00 pm. Table for one.
It is a stormy night. The restaurant is in a part of town that I don’t know very well, so I have some trouble finding it. An building in the parking lot of a local mall. In any case, here I eventually am. Stormy Tuesday, (I guess Tuesday really is just as bad) the place is mostly empty. I get a table near the bar. I explain to the waitress that I am in no particular hurry.

Bombay Sapphire martini, up, with a twist to start. Then a shrimp cocktail for appetizer with a glass of sauvignon blanc, ceasar salad (while finishing the sauvignon blanc). Then the 14 ounce ribeye (medium rare), baked potato, asparagus and brussels prouts. I don’t notice until later that the sides are meant to be shared. I don’t know why they can’t offer smaller portions, but no matter. Nothing much matters tonight. Besides, maybe I am sharing it. The food is good. I get a cabernet sauvignon for the dinner.

All very good, but I don’t eat everything. Some needs to go home to Drake. I get a cheesecake with coffee for dessert. Then finish the night with a glass of Port (Graham’s 20 year Tawny). I remember this because I asked the waitress to write it down for me.

So, that is our birthday dinner more than a year
has passed now and I wanted to write it down so as not
to forget.

Sitting in that restaurant with nothing
to do but enjoy a dinner at a table for one.
Which is nearly the same as nothing at all to do.
Nothing to do, for quite some time.

Leaving the restaurant, the storm has passed.
Stepping off the curb to go to my car, I glance back.
Thinking I heard someone call for me.
But no.
I am still alone.
Almost home.

Right?

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