Wednesday, December 31, 2014
Just do what I tell you
Katie and I got away for a few days last month. We headed to one of her favorite get-away spots and enjoyed two days and two nights all to ourselves. On the second day– the day before we were to return home – we ate at our favorite restaurant. It’s an Italian place. It’s quaint and cozy and when we arrived they put us at a corner table all by ourselves. How romantic! Last year when we were there Katie ordered carbonara and I had some pasta seafood dish. Both meals were delicious and the helpings were huge. We both left with leftovers made for another dinner the following day.
Prior to getting away this time, we checked the online menu to see what they were serving. Much to Katie’s dismay carbonara was not listed. Katie loves carbonara. It’s one of her favorite meals and although it’s not at all healthy – being full of carbs and bacon and cheese and saturated with a cream sauce that is, well it is absolutely delicious but fattening as can be. Katie wanted carbonara. She wanted it bad and she was bummed when she didn’t see it on the menu.
We called ahead and made reservations. We always make reservations and on the day of our meal we arrived a few minutes prior to our reservation time. That’s because we are never late - never. It's one of those things Katie avoids at all costs. And so we were on time and the hostess led us to our romantic corner table. A few minutes later the waitress gave us our menu. We both went to the Pasta section. As expected, there was no listing for carbonara. Katie’s heart sank. When the waitress returned to take our drink order we asked if they still offered carbonara and she informed us that it was something they put on the menu every now and again. But, she added, "the chef might make it for you if she has the ingredients on hand". Her eyes brightened. Hope! A few minutes later Katie beamed when the news that she could accommodate us.
And so we ate; she with a heaping plate of carbonara and me with a plate of pasta topped with Italian sausage, meatballs and covered in a marinara sauce loaded with peppers, mushrooms, onions, olives, garlic, oregano – all the good stuff that makes my mouth water – the kind of stuff I absolutely love. We had a great time. We ate tons and left with two Styrofoam containers filled with dinner leftovers.
Now our weekend away happened to come at a time when the weather had turned cold; not real cold but cold enough. The temps were going down to freezing that night and as we drove back to the hotel I asked Katie, “So you want me to leave the leftovers in the trunk?”
“No bring them in.”
My eyebrows rose but she was driving and didn’t see my reaction. I thought to myself, “It’s going down to 30 tonight – that’s freezing. Isn’t that just as cold as the refrigerator? Isn’t the purpose to keep this stuff cold and are we not leaving tomorrow morning? Is there a reason why you want me to cart this stuff up six floors at 8pm only to cart it back down the following morning to exactly the same place where it is now?”
I kept my mouth shut thinking how ludicrous it was for me to do what she wanted. Just be sure she heard me correctly I asked again just before we got to the hotel.
“Are you sure you want me to bring the food up to the fridge? It’s going to be cold tonight.” I added that last bit because I knew she’d put two and two together and make a rationale decision.
“No. Bring it up.”
Ugh! And so I did. I didn’t question. I didn’t argue. I didn’t complain or nag. I knew better. I had asked and then made sure a bit later. The answer was the same and it wasn’t going to change. I didn’t understand her rationale and didn’t opt to press her into a corner. The issue wasn’t a matter of pragmatism but one of obedience. So without saying more and without ever conveying all of my thoughts that all pointed to the same conclusion: “this is an irrational thing to do that makes no sense,” I just did it.
I put the meals in the fridge and we then enjoyed a quiet evening. We had fun. We stayed up late. We slept in. When we woke the following day we got up and opened the sliding door that led to the patio. The sun was shining brightly. The cold had gone. The temps were quickly rising into the upper 50’s if not warmer and I thought about the trunk of my car – sitting out there in the bright sun - on the black pavement - absorbing all of that radiant energy - and I said to myself, “self, aren’t you glad you kept your mouth shut last night and did what you were told with that food?”
“Yup,” said myself to its other self.
Need I draw the obvious conclusions for you the reader? I didn't think so. :)
Rule #1: Never disobey Mistress