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A Chance Encounter
Jul. 21st, 2007 12:20 amI would not normally have been there. But I was tired, and a little hungry, so I stopped at the Lake Calhoun Refectory (aka The Tin Fish) on my way home. In celebration of this week's spectacular weather I had pushed myself to new heights of bikieness and ridden to work THREE times, including two days back to back. The back to back days were yesterday and today, so even though I was less than three miles from home I had no trouble convincing myself that I needed a break and some dinner.
It turns out that everybody in South Minneapolis has the same idea on a gorgeous Friday evening, so the ordering line for the Tin Fish was almost half an hour long. I didn't really mind, though, since I had nowhere to be and it's not so bad standing in line when you an watch the sunset over the lake and listen to the pretty people in line behind you debating whether they should just go to Stella's instead. I've never been to Stella's Fish Cafe, but I know what and where it is, so I felt pretty hip.
I had a fish taco and a crab cake, both of which were tasty enough, although not spectacular, and the iced tea was very welcome after all that biking. I was looking for a trash can to bus my "dishes" into when someone called my name. The friendly young man didn't look familiar at first, but then suddenly he did. And not really all THAT young, now that I looked closer. But the last time I'd seen him he'd been about 23, so that's how he looked to me as my brain started processing old information. There's something sort of breathtaking about watching your brain diving into its archives to root out ancient information, which always emerges like a string of beads out of a tangled junk drawer. The first few beads were "cubemate," "Comten" and finally a last name, but not a first name. I probably would have gotten to that eventually, but once I gasped out the last name he beamed and supplied the first name (Joe). Then he introduced the pleasant looking wife at his side, and we sat down to have a nice little catch up session while they waited for and then ate their own suppers. It's been almost exactly 20 years since I left that job. Joe and his wife seem to be doing great.
It was thoroughly dark by the time the restaurant closed its little windows and we said goodbye, making the last part of my trip home a bit more of an adventure than I'd planned on. In a fun way, though. I do have lights on my bike, although I never quite figure out how to get the headlight on full strength until I get home and try to turn it off, and it's remarkably dark on the path between the two lakes. It was really fun running into Joe. I'm glad I made that unscheduled stop.
It turns out that everybody in South Minneapolis has the same idea on a gorgeous Friday evening, so the ordering line for the Tin Fish was almost half an hour long. I didn't really mind, though, since I had nowhere to be and it's not so bad standing in line when you an watch the sunset over the lake and listen to the pretty people in line behind you debating whether they should just go to Stella's instead. I've never been to Stella's Fish Cafe, but I know what and where it is, so I felt pretty hip.
I had a fish taco and a crab cake, both of which were tasty enough, although not spectacular, and the iced tea was very welcome after all that biking. I was looking for a trash can to bus my "dishes" into when someone called my name. The friendly young man didn't look familiar at first, but then suddenly he did. And not really all THAT young, now that I looked closer. But the last time I'd seen him he'd been about 23, so that's how he looked to me as my brain started processing old information. There's something sort of breathtaking about watching your brain diving into its archives to root out ancient information, which always emerges like a string of beads out of a tangled junk drawer. The first few beads were "cubemate," "Comten" and finally a last name, but not a first name. I probably would have gotten to that eventually, but once I gasped out the last name he beamed and supplied the first name (Joe). Then he introduced the pleasant looking wife at his side, and we sat down to have a nice little catch up session while they waited for and then ate their own suppers. It's been almost exactly 20 years since I left that job. Joe and his wife seem to be doing great.
It was thoroughly dark by the time the restaurant closed its little windows and we said goodbye, making the last part of my trip home a bit more of an adventure than I'd planned on. In a fun way, though. I do have lights on my bike, although I never quite figure out how to get the headlight on full strength until I get home and try to turn it off, and it's remarkably dark on the path between the two lakes. It was really fun running into Joe. I'm glad I made that unscheduled stop.
