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Aug. 28th, 2002 09:57 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
lsandersonAfter the Exploratorium, we cabbed back to the hotel. Relaxing turned into a three hour nap, and then we headed out again in a cab to eat. We headed out to the Fog City Diner, late, around 8:30 or 9:00. Got right in, always a bad sign at a restaurant, even if it was Tuesday night.
The food was good, not spectacular. David ordered the meatloaf, Laura, some kinda macaroni and cheese, and I had the fish soup. We ordered the first bottle of wine, if you don't count the one we tried to buy at the first restaurant we ate at. Wine was good. Food was good. Not stellar, but good.
As we sat there, tired, half asleep, I realized that with the accustics in the place, I could hear the table behind me and the table behind Laura and David better than I could hear Laura or David. Particularly, the girl behind Laura. A talker, discussing her next promotion at the bank. In great detail. Loudlly. In endless detail. Then her boyfriend/husband started talking about cigarette prices in Canada. Apparently they've not changed. And Karma. House fires. Burnt buildings from a bit their friends had managed to inject into the conversation. Several times she grabbed her keys and purse, and I thought, "Finally!" but each time, they didn't leave.
Just before we left, I asked the waitress how much she would have charged to take 'em out. It took her a good minute to interpret the question. And then she asked several questions to determine that we were not from Chicago. She did seem to understand the concept.
Today: the Walgreens saga continues. David picks up rental car. We try to pick up David's nephew. The move to San Jose.
The food was good, not spectacular. David ordered the meatloaf, Laura, some kinda macaroni and cheese, and I had the fish soup. We ordered the first bottle of wine, if you don't count the one we tried to buy at the first restaurant we ate at. Wine was good. Food was good. Not stellar, but good.
As we sat there, tired, half asleep, I realized that with the accustics in the place, I could hear the table behind me and the table behind Laura and David better than I could hear Laura or David. Particularly, the girl behind Laura. A talker, discussing her next promotion at the bank. In great detail. Loudlly. In endless detail. Then her boyfriend/husband started talking about cigarette prices in Canada. Apparently they've not changed. And Karma. House fires. Burnt buildings from a bit their friends had managed to inject into the conversation. Several times she grabbed her keys and purse, and I thought, "Finally!" but each time, they didn't leave.
Just before we left, I asked the waitress how much she would have charged to take 'em out. It took her a good minute to interpret the question. And then she asked several questions to determine that we were not from Chicago. She did seem to understand the concept.
Today: the Walgreens saga continues. David picks up rental car. We try to pick up David's nephew. The move to San Jose.
