When my husband and I first started dating, I told him that I would handle the Valentine’s Day planning and reservations. My plans involved a new dress, treacherous, bright red heels and impressing him with a new restaurant find, which I called the day before February 14.
I asked if they had room for two more.
“Absolutely,” the man said. “I will put you down for 6:30.”
Perfect! All set. Reservations and everything – I felt important.
On the evening of Valentine’s Day, Terry arrived with red roses in hand and picked me up for our culinary adventure.
We walked in to the restaurant and found a quiet and relaxing atmosphere with candles twinkling. The host wore a suit and our server approached our table with a white linen napkin draped over his arm. He explained to us that the meal was special and that we wouldn’t be ordering off the menu. Instead he asked for our choice of chicken or steak.
He returned with an appetizer and two glasses of wine, explaining that the beverage had been chosen to complement the flavors of our first course.
Terry and I exchanged a glance over the idea of someone ordering for us, but we went along with the plan.
Next came the salads…with another beverage for each of us. Then came the entrees…with another beverage for each of us. Finally the dessert arrived…with another beverage for each of us.
At this point our small table was cluttered with varying alcoholic beverages that hadn’t been touched. We were told that it came as part of the Valentine’s Day package.
Our relaxing meal started to lose its appeal in between the second and third courses when we wondered just how much money this would cost. Having not been particularly impressed with some of the food flavors, we started whispering numbers back and forth.
“$40…per person?” I threw across the table.
“Probably higher than that,” Terry whispered back.
Yikes.
The table next to us held a quiet couple in their 30s, dressed like they arrived straight from work. The man opened the leather book holding the slip and I watched his eyes widen. He looked up at his significant other and I will just say, the two of them had a quiet freak out moment.
Now we were really nervous. Our turn.
The bill was about five times what we had ever spent on a meal – even at that very restaurant – and significantly higher than our estimates. I caught my breath. We looked around and saw half eaten plates of food with tables full of glasses that would not be emptied.
As others received their bills, each reaction was about the same. I guess I wasn’t the only one who didn’t ask for details over the phone.
That’s what you get for going to Arbys.