the first time i have relaxed in a very very very long while.
i'm adverse to formality. that is being a participant.
moving the utensils to "incorrect" places just to have the staff come back to adjust...is funny. they have a standard to live up to. conformity. keeps it efficient--I agree. only painters don't keep their brushes to the left and right...and the table pristine in white our canvas of sorts. they've already added so many things, positioned so carefully and everywhere you look it's just the same.
just the same.
i listen, close my eyes, a voice here and there. i look at you. how you studied the wine menu, at first uncomfortable...so many to choose from. and then, you let go. peaceful, lingering, turning the pages slowly. you're very serious when i ask which portion of the book you are in, "no, not in SF that's where the whites are". i laugh. you don't. and return to your studies.
the older couple. how long have they been together? she looks off into the distance, away, reminiscing i think. i watch them the entire meal. although they are sitting perpendicular to us and i see only his profile, I am certain he is watching her. has he watched her all these years? there is and there is not a wall, i imagine, between them. they say little to one another the entire time. laughter escapes for a second, a smile now and again. but mostly two people thinking, saying little, giving little.
there are others i notice. the table of four, two couples, in their 20s? can never tell ages. they laugh the entire time. animated, hands waving, touching shoulders, light. the young couple seeming...i don't know, she looks at him sideways, he leans forward; they're young, how strange that this is already in the repertoire. and the table of five, four men and one woman. what does one make of an odd set...but then, we're all odd sets.
oddities are always interesting, catch one's attention, makes one think, "why?" there are lots of silent "whys". only in this environment, one doesn't ask questions, does one? so rude and puts people on edge. edges are sharp, sometimes they cut without meaning to, and we very much don't want them to get dull; think of the spillage, the mess, the clean-up and the stains so permanent. i digress.
a table for two should not have barriers...even lovely ones. it's still a barrier. conformity again. 14.5 inches is the proper distance to stand, and sit while facing another. (throw a barrier in there, it'll help the cause). the ambiance will make up for it...the attention from these strangers coming and going will make you feel like gold. they stand above you,"you picked a gem of a wine" (haha). gargling wine is a must. doesn't matter the price. wine is serious stuff--I know. it's not an attack on wine, or even an attempt to humble it. fun is seriously more important and the neck so inviting when it is tilted back. they wouldnt approve, but you amuse me anyway. your very loyal servants for this short while overlook the transgressions. they read your eyes, the way you are sitting, adapting and adjusting and are appropriately present; dash-in, dash-out. one simple kindness.
simplicity. seduce my tongue by teasing the eyes. perfectly painted. six borders, 3 exquisite paintings...more would be too much, less would be so "normal". enticing, delectable, that "mmm" softly escaping. there are no finger foods here. the seduction incomplete. the texture begging to be touched, caressed and seen in the way only hands can. i could drop my utensils, but a silent army of correctness would swoop in and re-implement the silly rules. and my tongue, i demand, feels what my hands may not.
with each new arrival through to departure we studied. all so lovely to look at. tasting trials, nodding, laughing, scrunchy faced, left wondering, wishing there was more of that particular thing. we laugh at it too. and the youngest wait-staff, the one who has the most to learn, laughs with us as he clears plates. i ask of him, "have you had it?", "did you like it?"; we respond, "really good", "it's ok"...he laughs at the honesty of the "it's ok" and recovers brilliantly. "why just ok?", i lie, "i'm full". he laughs knowing it was an intentionally poor showing of "polite deception". he would be obligated to say something up the chain...and the "ok" is a pass...not a demand for something more. he is of course my favorite. he has been tamed, but not fully.
....
i dreamt odd dreams and we left the next morning. wandered past the castle that had been unveiled. for a blip i miss nyc, the windows, the cold. but my eyes are smiling. "i love this, i love this." t-giving gave.