A Meal Out

My husband and I decide to grab dinner at a local place. Its dinning room is fancier than what we are looking for, so we duck into the bar instead. We settle in at a table for two in the corner.

Our server approaches and tells us the specials for the night. “Wednesday is Wine Night. Bottles are 40% off,” she says, leaving to give us a few minutes with the menus.

We opt for house burgers and a bottle of Pinot noir. Our evening passes easily with the wine flowing. I finish the better part of the bottle, and as I like to say: I’m not driving

After my husband pays the check, we stand up to leave. I glance at my chair, gathering my cane and folding my coat over my arm. It’s a bit tight in the bar. I don’t want to try to put on the coat here. Instead, I follow my husband out to the hallway, bundling up there where I have more room.

I tap down the stairs as we walk to the car. It’s cold outside in suburbia; I’m glad I wore my winter coat.

The next morning, my husband leaves for work. I hitch up the dog for his morning walk, collecting my keys, my cane, and a plastic bag for doggie do. I reach for my purse, but it’s not on the radiator. I search around. Still, I find no purse.

I stop moving. I think about where I last held it. I remember I used my magnifier at the restaurant to read the menu, and I placed it back into my purse after I ordered. The bag never left the bar with me. Sigh.

I call the restaurant.

“Hi. Unfortunately,” I say to the employee who answers, “I think I left my bag at the bar last night. It’s gray and–”

“Yep,” she says. “I have it here in the office.”

“Oh, thank you. I’m such an idiot,” I say, shaking my head. “Either my husband or I will be by later to pick it up. Thanks so much.”


I end the call. Then, I dial my husband at work.

“Hey. I left my bag at the bar yesterday.”

“Did you call them?” he asks.

“Yeah,” I say. “They have it in the office. It’s fine. I would walk to get it, but it will take me two and a half hours. Can you get it at lunch today, maybe?”

He sighs, “This is my life.”

Later that afternoon, he drops off my reclaimed bag. I kiss him thank you.


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