Did you press PLAY? You should. To get a better idea of how the day went (from my point of view anyway) allowing the playlist to run through in the background while you read will provide the most optimal experience.
The light of the sun continues to shine through my eyelids as I sit on the streetcar with my face turned up towards the window. I slowly open them, and marvel at the sight before me. The sky is so blue. The sun is so warm. I close my eyelids once again, and a release a slow sigh of contentment. I don’t even notice how long I’ve been sitting on the streetcar as I head to the Junction. I am well rested, my head is clear, and it is a marvellous day.
It occurred to me a couple hours earlier to give Sully a wakeup call. But he’s done that to me, and I wore cranky pants for a while afterwards and thought better of it. He’s a grown man, he can handle himself just fine.
I glance at the time. Almost 11. I shake my head and tell sloppy-pants-McGee to get a move on. The answer is no. Now, I wasn’t being a hard-ass for the sheer joy of it, because if you’ll all recall, Sully has pushed the time every single week and I’ve been most agreeable. But this stop is different.
Weeks ago, an acquaintance of mine had thoughtfully suggested the Farmhouse Tavern, and since I hold her opinion of all things delicious and notable in high regard, I made a mental note to book a visit. After Rock Lobster last Sunday, I sent out a tweet and Darcy (owner of Farmhouse Tavern) responded immediately inquiring whether I’d booked a table. There are only 2 reasons why a restaurant would take reservations several days beforehand.
1. The extreme popularity makes for busy mornings, and no one wants to be disappointed and hungry upon discovering that there aren’t any tables available (lining up to watch people eat can be quite torturous);
2. Someone has severe OCD, and reservations are the easiest method of ensuring order.
I was going to assume a little bit of both, and was grateful to Darcy for taking the time and initiative to book a table for me, for it would not have occurred to me to do so.
If Sully wants to eat an hour later, then he’s going to do the leg work and make another reservation. I tell him so. Ten minutes later, Sully is out the door and on his way.