On Saturday November 9th we had a really lazy day around the house. Eventually, we got up and ready enough to go out for dinner and we decided to go to Da Edoardo Foxtown Grille. We had eaten there once in the past, when B was in the habit of purchasing restaurant.com gift card deals. We laughed remembering how we didn’t realize that when using the gift card, you were supposed to pay cash, and we didn’t have any cash on us; thankfully the manager bent the rules and let us pay with a card. The food had been okay, but we’re on an unofficial mission to eat at just about every Detroit restaurant while we live down here, so we figured we might as well stop Foxtown and try it again.
B teased me about what I was wearing, saying something like my navy linen dress pants didn’t look much different than pajama pants. Then, as we were walking up to the restaurant, I noticed a girl sitting inside by the window staring me up and down. Now, I can think of a million reasons why she might have been staring at me and most of them have nothing to do with me or how I look, but for some reason, I always get slightly offended and definitely annoyed when I catch people, especially other girls, looking me up and down. My first reaction is “What the hell are you looking at??” We got sat and I caught her eye again, this time prompting a silly discussion between B and I about different things I could say to her or gestures that I could make to give her the hint.
The waitress came to take our drink order; I got a Pepsi, and B got a glass of wine. Just as she was walking away, I looked over and saw a chalkboard sign advertising drink specials, including Crabbie’s Ginger Beer. I had Crabbie’s a couple times in New York, and I really like non-alcoholic ginger beer, so I have been wanting to find it in Michigan for awhile now. I almost changed my order but I saw she was already pouring the Pepsi, so I decided I’d just have to have it another time.
The server took our orders, recommending the house Italian dressing for our salads. Normally, I would have asked if ranch was available, as I’m somewhat picky about Italian dressings. But she spoke very highly of it, so I went with the flow. The salads came and the vinaigrette was good, a little sweet for my taste, but went nicely with the mild blue cheese on top. Even B liked the blue cheese, and blue is one of the few cheeses he normally doesn’t like.
The entrees came: I got Cannelloni alla Fiorentina, which was cannelloni stuffed with spinach and ricotta, and a tomato cream sauce. B got Tortellini “Marcella Hazan”, which was chicken and veal stuffed tortellini with peas and prosciutto in a cream sauce. The pastas were very good, and although the servings looked small when they arrived, they ended up being enough to fill both of us up. We had a nice talk during dinner, and I felt good about how well our relationship has been going and how much we’ve both grown as people and as husband and wife.
The service was not that great here; the server was nice, but just wasn’t around very much. Our table seemed to be on the complete other side of the restaurant as her other tables, and she didn’t come to check on us the entire time we ate, until it was time for the bill.
As we were getting up, B swung his scarf around his neck and knocked down a glittery Christmas snowflake that had been hanging from the ceiling, which really made us laugh. We bundled up and went out into the night.
As we were walking down the sidewalk, I noticed a concert ticket face down on the ground. Not giving it much thought, I picked it up, expecting to see info about a long past show or event. But it wasn’t long past, it was for the City & Colour concert that was going on next door at the Filmore at that very moment! I flipped it over and it had AK handwritten on the back. Man, what a bummer; there was a person out there, just like us at any other show we’d gone to, who lost their ticket and it was probably ruining their night. We stood for a second, and B asked if we should try selling it. I said no, that seemed pretty shady, and also unlikely, as there are at least 10 scruffy men standing outside of any Detroit event trying to hawk tickets as it is. We kept walking towards the Filmore, and decided we would just give the ticket to someone that was in line about to purchase them. I picked out a guy in a blue shirt and approached him, saying “Here…we found this, you can have it.” As I was finishing my sentence, he interrupted with “ARE YOU SERIOUS? ARE YOU KIDDING ME RIGHT NOW?” I thought that he was just in disbelief about his good luck, but then the girl in front of him turned around and yelled, “YOU FOUND MY TICKET???!!!???” I thought, “No, crazy ass, we didn’t find your ticket, we found a ticket, what are the odds that it would be yours and why would you even think that???” But then B chimed in and said, “What are your initials?” and she said “A-K!!!!” and we all started exclaiming because we knew it actually was her ticket. She came around and gave us both hugs, thanking us. She said she had driven all the way back home (wherever that was) to get her license, presumably so she could try to prove that she had purchased tickets and gain entry into the show. As we walked away, we both couldn’t get over how strange of a coincidence the whole thing was. It was a VERY windy day, so the fact that the ticket was even there on the ground is quite strange. And honestly, if there are 2 people out there who you want to find your lost ticket, it’s B and I, because we both really like music and going to shows, and we know how big of a deal it would be to lose a ticket. And then the fact that that girl happened to be standing in front of the box office right as we were walking by with her ticket…the odds are just against all of those things working out so serendipitously. But it’s times like those that make you feel like we’re all connected in ways we don’t understand, and that there is a reason to do good things for other people.
After that, B wanted to walk by Campus Martius to see the ice skating rink being set up. Then we walked home and ended a good-vibes sort of night.
Until next time,