The Power of Dining

Two guy friends of mine* convinced me to go out tonight but wouldn’t tell me what we were doing.

If you’ve read earlier posts in this blog, you may already know what security issues I have. So mix those security issues with a compulsive Capriconian need to get things done while my son is with his dad this weekend, and you’ll realize that going out was not something I wanted to do.

But my friends have been listening to me ramble for weeks now and I figured they know enough about me to probably be right – I need a night out.

So with a bit of reluctance I showered, blow-dried and met Sean** at Adam’s** house. Adam finally told me we were heading to a small restaurant that only takes reservations. He said he had a group of seven folks who were supposed to go, but two canceled so he figured he’d invite us. Adam had already explained this to Sean. “Ohh,” I said jokingly, “the two of you were so secretive about it that I thought you were going to sell me off into slavery and ship me out of the country or something.” I laughed and added, “I was going to tell you that my son and I are a package deal…” thinking maybe a nice rich couple in Dubai may put us up for a few years.

No such luck, I’ll have to gun for winning the lottery instead. The three of us hit the road to the restaurant.

Two women and a man were waiting in the parking lot when we arrived. They immediately introduced themselves so Sean and I assumed Adam already knew them. It was only after appetizers were finished that Adam explained to everyone what was really going on: This was a Meetup based on dining and restaurants, and because the group has a tight RSVP list, Adam sorta’ squeezed in Sean and me.

“Oh!” everyone collectively nodded. Finally a little clarity. It was one of those moments where you realize that it wasn’t the wine and you didn’t have Alzheimer’s. Only one of the members of the restaurant group still looked put-out that non-Members jumped to the top of the RSVP list. Everyone else seemed relieved with the information simply because it alleviated the confusion of wondering who Sean and I were.

At that moment the dinner slid into a calm evening of wine and laughter. I had a few nostalgic moments when I allowed myself to remember and miss going out with my last real boyfriend. But in my new 1YearofSingle style, I allowed the moment, but promised myself I would mentally tally the preference and move on to continue enjoying the night. Which I did.

It’s amazing what a good time I can have when I’m not looking for a relationship. I may join that Meetup and dine with them “legally” next time. I’ll be sure to put tonight in my gratitude journal right next to the entry about being happy app-centric. Lol 😀

* According to Married Guy, any girl who eats food with a guy is possibly on a date with him. I disagree with this theory.

** Names have been changed to protect the guilty!

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