However the customers were many, many groups of women out for a good meal and a catchup, we were about the only couple. The big thumbs down for me was the NOISE. Now I can have a chat with the best of them but the level of competing voices in this place was off the Richter scale. These ladies weren't chatting they were screaming. All necessary in order to be heard over the volcano of noise erupting at the next table and the next one and the one over there. It became a painful rather than a relaxing meal time.
We ate. We tried talking but after the tenth time of "What did you say?" we kind of gave up. The food was so so. Incredibly there was a baby capsule on the floor next to us with a tiny little baby in there somewhere. I'm not sure if it ever cried or was just as overwhelmed as me and just endured. The most amazing thing was that at a table near the doorway a group, consisting of a few teenagers and some parents, had an equally puzzling reaction as mine. The one whom I supposed was the mother of some of the teenagers at one point screamed, pushed her chair over and fled the restaurant! Her husband ran out after her leaving the teenagers just sitting there. He then arrived back and the whole group then left.
All in all a complete opposite of what I had been pining for all week. I suppose as well as a "dining" experience we got to witness "true-life' drama. So we eventually left bellies full and ears ringing. I suppose then it came as no surprise that as we walked to our car my partner slipped on some wet leaves and landed on the concrete pavement with a slice to his hand. Tonight on the dinner menu I am serving up nachos without a side dressing of mayhem and madness.
The picture to accompany this story is a wall hanging on the wall that I faced during dinner, her expression and the finger says it best.