An Hour Early

Due to my health issues I haven't been eating out much in recent months. Though Friday evening I decided to give in (my doctor: "You can cheat once in a while") and drive in to town and take in the fish special at one of my favorite restaurants.

I thought I'd get there around 5:30, when there are usually a few people eating, but the place hasn't begun to really fill up like later in the evening.

So. I walk in the door, and through the bar area up front. Not a single person at the bar. That's unusual.

To the restaurant area in back. Again, not a single customer there. Hunh. The cook comes bustling through. She says, "I bet you're in a hurry to get to a meeting."

I say, "No, no hurry." I glance at my watch, which I had set earlier in the afternoon. Hmmmmm, must've set my watch wrong, it reads just a little past 4:30.

The waitress takes my order for the Friday night fish special. A few minutes later the cook comes through, walking from the bar toward the kitchen, carrying a 12 pack of beer to make the batter for the fish. I go up and help myself at the salad bar.

I eat. The fish arrives, shortly before 5:00 if you believe my watch, which I'm convinced must be off. I eat the fish, and it's very good.

I leave a gigantic tip. Up front, paying my bill at the bar, I notice that the clock above the bar, just like my watch, is reading about a quarter after five.

Well, my watch must've been right all along. I simply arrived at the place, somehow, an hour early. I mention it to the proprietor. He chuckles. "Look at it this way, now you've got an extra hour."

Yeah, that's one way to look at it. Though I still can't figure how I managed to arrive at that restaurant an hour early.