Did You See…?

Valentine’s Day lunch. Crazy day at the restaurant. People may be in love, but they are also hungry and surly, or surly because they are hungry. In comes a couple clearly not from my city–these folks look very West Coast. He–sunglasses, tight designer jeans, expensive T-shirt. She–the same, minus the sunglasses.

We are just coming off a wait. I make the out-of-towners wait in the foyer while I try to find a table that’s re-set. I return a few minutes later, and ask them to follow me, seating them in one of the quietest and least public areas of the restaurant. I chit chat about the weather, the holiday, whatever. He keeps his eyes downcast. She glares at me. Okay, I can take a hint. No chit chat.

Within minutes, a steady stream of waiters, host staff, and one patron with pen and cocktail napkin in hand are wandering by the couple’s table. Turns out, he’s some big R&B singer, or at least used to be big until a falling out with a movie star wife.

I have to plead with the host staff not to ask for photos (one girl got a busser to go down the street to buy a disposable camera!), autographs, or ANYTHING. “You can thank him by name for coming in, that’s it,” I say. Which the prettiest girl on the staff does.

He looks her right in the eye and beams. “Thanks,” he says. She nearly swoons.

And I made him wait in the foyer for a table. Hey, it’s all good.