The Stranger I Met Today

Here’s the scene.  8:30a.m., downtown Chicago.  Upscale restaurant located in a luxurious boutique hotel. 

Entering through an ominous, oversized wooden swinging door, the sleekness in the restaurant décor lives in deep grays and neutrals.  Sharp squares and diamonds run down the walls and the blended aroma of baking pastries and fresh coffee is intoxicating.  Even though most of the tables and the floors are dark, the longest wall of the restaurant is floor to ceiling windows, so light is equally balanced with the modern color palette.  The only sound is muffled kitchen noises, hardly noticeable.

Your favorite blogger (me) was looking for a solitary breakfast experience.  Every one of my senses agreed in unison, you’re in the right place, as I stood before the hostess. 

“Good morning,” I say to the hostess. 

“Hello.” 

“Table for one, please.” 

“Do you have a reservation?” the hostess asks.

I survey the twenty tables or so that are within my sight range.  Only three are occupied. 

“Do I need one?” 

The hostess just blinks at me.

“So, you didn’t make a reservation?” she asks accusingly.  “I’m not sure we’ll have a table available.” 

“You’ve got to be kidding me, right?” I ask.  I slowly look from left to right and right to left again, emphasizing my inquiry by concluding my surveillance with an exaggerated chin stroke. 

“I’ll check to see if I have a table for you,” she says and begins shuffling through sheets of paper at the hostess station.  She does this for about twenty seconds.  “Fine.  I think I can find a table for you.  Right this way.” 

Lesson Learned

Restaurants don’t have it easy, especially larger establishments that have a forty to fifty table seating capacity.  I felt really bad for the entire staff while I sat and had breakfast (fantastic kale, mushroom, and goat cheese soft scrambled egg dish).  I can only assume that they had at least 30 reservation cancellations while I was there, since only two tables were seated after me.