I should get out more

That’s a poached egg in the middle. Who knew?

My child bride had to attend to some legal matters in the nearby capital city on Thursday with members of her family. I was not needed. I was superfluous. I was unwanted perhaps. No matter.

After dropping her off at the appointed place and time, 10:30 a.m., quite early for us, I headed straight downtown to hunt Eggs Benedict in a restaurant we visited years ago.

I do love Eggs Benedict. I passed the restaurant, which sits just behind the cathedral, and parked in a multifloor garage for a pittance, the peso equivalent of 75 cents an hour.

I was on the third floor. I looked over an accessible edge and thought to myself: Great place to commit suicide.

Tragically, Eggs Benedict had been erased from the menu, so I ordered what you see above. It wasn’t Eggs Benedict, but it was quite tasty. I accompanied it with a fruit smoothie.

A shot from my table in the restaurant.

Departing the restaurant and mounting the Honda again, I motored to a shopping mall a few miles away and rambled around. I sat in a coffee shop with a double espresso. There were so many Kung Flu precautions that the experience was tainted.

I departed that shopping mall and drove to another — still killing time, mind you — a few miles farther and up a mountainside. I sat at a nicer coffee shop, a sidewalk table. I watched the passing crowd, such as it was on a Thursday afternoon. I exchanged text messages with Ms. Shoes, who was some miles away in a restaurant eating pasta because the pulled pork she prefers was unavailable.

After downing another espresso, a single this time, I walked to the Daily Pick nearby and ordered a teriyaki bowl. See below.

A bowl full of teriyaki stuff. Tasty. Note my knee.

I bought a shirt in a department store, first time in years. Normally, I purchase them in second-hand stores in my mountaintop town. I don’t do that often either.

At this point, I had been roaming around town, playboy style, five hours. I had one double espresso and one single, one mystery breakfast with a surprise poached egg and then a teriyaki bowl. It was a good day, but I was ready to return to my mountaintop home. Luckily, my child bride phoned, time to scoop her up.

Half an hour later, she was in the Honda.

The capital city is a great place to visit. I should do it more often, with or without her. With her is better, but flying solo is an interesting experience I rarely have anymore. Very different.

18 thoughts on “I should get out more

  1. This was an interesting post. That restaurant looked more like a phamacy/museum/library. That’s better than a bunch of TVs showing old football games or golf tournaments. I generally don’t like to eat out alone, unless I know the waitress or owner. I may go to a local family-owned Mexican restaurant, but I’ve been going there 62 years, so the owner (actually 3rd generation) will come over and sit down with me if it’s not too busy. Two friends and I used to go there every Friday night, for years.

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    1. Phil: That restaurant presents itself that way, like a comfy bookstore. I wonder how many of those books it actually sells. I think most of it is for show. Eating alone in a restaurant does not bother me at all. I recall just one exception to that in my entire life, and that was in a restaurant in Edinburgh, Scotland, in the 1970s. Why there, why then, who knows? But I really felt uncomfortable, and it stuck in my memory, clearly.

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    1. Ricardo: Thanks, and how right you are. Feeling uncomfortable about eating alone in restaurants is far more common among women, of course. You hear that from them all the time, but it can affect men too. Not too often, I’m guessing.

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  2. In Dec 1952, I stopped at the Hassayampa Hotel in Prescott, AZ. I was in the Army and on my way to Korea. I walked into the dining room with a long counter in the back of the room. There must have been 30 or 35 stools, unpadded yellow oak, like an old fashioned office swivel chair, mounted on a fixed black pipe post. Only two were occupied, some distance apart, so I selected one roughly midway between them and sat down.

    Shortly after I placed my order, an old man came shuffling in, wearing a robe and slippers. He shuffled past me two or three times. Then the waitress came over and said, “Sir, would you mind moving to another stool. This gentleman has been sitting in that stool for the last 25 years for his dinner. It looks like he isn’t going to eat until he can sit there.” It didn’t take him 30 seconds to sit down where I had been sitting.

    In retrospect, I wish I had moved only a couple of stools away, and maybe tried to start a conversation with him. He might have had an interesting story to tell.

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    1. Phil: Or he might have been an old fart so stuck in his ways that he couldn’t imagine sitting atop a different stool. The robe and the slippers were a clue. You are more accepting than I am. Interesting story.

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  3. A recent experience in Parque Delta, an enormous shopping mall in CDMX has me agreeing with you. At every single store, they repeated the covid drill: hand sanitizer and temperature check. I’m good with the hand sanitizer, but what are the odds that I’ve developed a fever since I entered the mall where they checked me at the entrance? Seems low, but I’m not an epidemiologist or virologist either.

    Saludos,

    Kim G
    Ajijic, Jalisco
    Where covid panic remains alive and well.

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    1. Kim: Mexicans do things when they are told to, especially when employment is concerned. There is no thinking involved. It’s robotic. This often results in stuff that is totally illogical.

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          1. Well, there are definitely pockets of resistance to the covid-tyranny. But these have been aggressively swatted down too.

            Freedom fighters are popular in the movies, but in real life, not so much.

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