When She’s 64

We went to Cous Cous last night, a new restaurant. Not new new, but new to me. Perhaps I’d seen it before, but I’d never eaten there, and seeing it there where an Arby’s used to be, if it registered at all, was quickly forgotten, and so I think it’s fair if I refer to it as new.

The cuisine is Mediterranean, and the chef Nick, is hands on and serves the food himself. My wife has eaten there before, and she suggested it as a place to celebrate her birthday, though her birthday is still two days away.

Will you still need me, will you still feed me when I’m sixty-four?

We had trouble finding the restaurant because the birthday girl said it was on 7th East between 8600 South and 9400 South. It turns out that it is between 5300 South and 5600 South on 9th East. She’s good at finding places if they are in the neighborhood. Though sometimes one neighborhood looks much like another to her.

Siri helped us find the restaurant. “This restaurant named couscous grill is a little ways from you,” she said.

We checked the menu on the wall. Gail and I decided on the Seafood Bake while one son ordered a Cajun Steak while the other a dish with lamb.

“I don’t like lamb,” I said, “it made me sick one time.”

The lamb son asked “how long ago was that?”

I said “oh maybe 20 or 30 years ago.”

He suggested that maybe I just got some bad lamb. I agreed that was possible, but since there were other menu items that I was sure would taste good, the lamb was something I didn’t intend to try.

“Maybe you could try it some other time,” he said.

“I could, but I probably won’t with so many safe choices available,” I said

Cous Cous is a restaurant where you order at a counter and take a number to your table. While the others, my wife and two sons were filling their drinks, I looked for a table.

There were none with room for four. I suppose we could have managed with the high stools and the little round table, but I don’t like those any more than I like lamb. I finally found a solution, not perfect but workable, there were two tables for two right next to each other with only a 12×12 inch column separating them. You could easily see two of the three other people at the table with no problem, and if you leaned a bit around the post you could see the third, but it wasn’t perfect.

Near us was a booth that could accommodate four but it was occupied by a couple, a man and a woman. A man and a woman can get married in Utah, but if it was a man and another man or a woman and another woman they would be out of luck unless they had already done it during the sanity window, December 20th to January 6th, when it was legal. It is now on hold.

But this is not about the state we live in–sometimes primitive, rather it is about a birthday, and food, and conversation.

It occurred to me that if we could switch places with the couple, in the booth, a man and a woman. There would be room for the four of us. But asking someone to move, is not something I feel comfortable doing. But I was thinking it, and then my son, also thinking it commented on how nice it would be to have the booth, but that he too was uncomfortable asking. He had it all worked out in his mind. He would explain how it was his mom’s birthday, and presto chango we would be sitting where they were. We decided that they had picked the spot because it was comfortable and while they might be willing to switch it really wasn’t fair to ask.

Asking would be like trying lamb, it might turn out to be great, But it might turn out poorly and once the mood is broken it’s tough to get it back. Sometimes good enough is good enough, though others might say nothing ventured nothing gained. I guess I’m a good enough kind of person.

Will I still need her, I do. Will I still feed her, I will. Just not lamb.

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