At least I'm not a Lobster...

It was a very tough week:

Washington, DC-> Houston, Texas-> Alexandria, Lousiana

Alexandria, Lousiana -> Atlanta, Georgia-> Pensacola, Florida

Pensacola, Florida-> Atlanta, Georgia-> Norfolk, Virginia

Norfolk, Virginia-> Pawleys Island, South Carolina

By the time I was about to board my plane in Pensacola to fly to Norfolk, I was Done. The travel, not to mention the usual stress and pressure of having an aggressive sales job, had completely burned me into the ground.

My mom picked me up in Norfolk (she was driving from Pennslyvania to South Carolina) and we spent the night at the Hilton in Virginia Beach. (I had once eaten at an outstanding restaurant there called "Catch 33" and since I wanted my Mom to experience it, I decided to book us a room there).

The hotel and restaurant were packed. I've never seen so many people in one hotel. As one lady said when we were standing in the ridiculous line waiting on the elevators, "Gosh! This is worse than Myrtle Beach in the summer!" :)

Myrtle Beach in the summer

As luck would have it, there were no tables available in the restaurant.

.... So we opted to sit at the raw bar, opposite the raw crustaceans that were waiting to be cooked.

There was a cluster full of lobsters probably less than a foot away from us- just laying on a bed of ice. I assumed that they were dead because they were complelely lifeless.

Then all of a sudden, the one sitting directly across from me (see above), starting moving his atennas, and blinking at me. My reaction must have been like that of a five year old: "Oh my gosh!!!!! He's moving!!!" It was really exciting and confusing at the same time. I couldn't take my eyes off of him.

After the initial excitement wore off, I felt kinda sorry sorry for the little guy. There he was... just laying on his death bed... and as my mom added, "not just his death bed... his death bed of ICE!"

Not only that but a just a few feet away the chef's were chopping up his steamed friends. It so terribly reminded me of the scene in The Little Mermaid where Sebastian escapes Chef Louis.

Then all of sudden, I turned to my mom and said, "You know... life really could be worse. At least I am not this lobster." And with that we clinked our wine glasses and laughed. The week was nearly done, and I was determined to enjoy the moment and put it all behind me, reminding myself once again, that this is JUST A JOB, and life really could be so much harder than it is.

I don't remember our conversation but I remember laughing a good bit... that is.... until our entrees arrived.

You see, I had ordered the fried snapper. And they brought me... literally... a fried snapper.

The fried snapper... with the half dead lobster in the background

I may have grown up in coastal South Carolina, but I feel very uncomfortable eating fish this way. I sort of feel like the server should have warned me. All of a sudden I regretted not asking him what I typically ask servers 99% of the time when I order fish-> "is this one... fishy?"

Oh well. We made it through the meal with our only regrets being that we had mis-timed when American Idol was on and had missed that week's elimination.

When we got back to the room my mom called my grandmother, "Hi, Mom... so who was voted off American Idol??" (GASP) "WHAT?!!?! STEPHANO?!?! You are KIDDING ME?!"

By the time we got ready for bed, and I completed my usual hotel nightly routine of covering up all the lights and properly examining the wall thermostat to set the right temperature and fan mode, life was better again.

Just another romantic dinner...

with me, myself, and I.

Sometimes I don't mind eating alone; sometimes I prefer eating alone; and sometimes... I just feel sorry for myself.

I am in Alexandria, Louisiana. I was determined to not eat subway or fast food tonight (especially since I voluntarily chose to eat McDonalds for lunch), so I headed down 49 South to MacCarthur Boulevard- per the recommendation of my Hampton Inn front desk lady.

As I drive, my appetite is not impressed. Taco Bell.... Texas Roadhouse... Applebee's... BBQ... Taco Bueno... no, no, no, no, no. Gag, gag, gag, gag.

Then all of sudden I notice a sketchy looking Italian restaurant that peaks my interest, so I try to pull over to check out the scene. (The car in the lane beside me is very upset that I am suddenly trying to get over, so he honks obnoxiously and gives me the middle finger). Ahhh... what a wonderful end to the day.

Eventually, I pull into the parking lot... very confused about what I would find inside. But experience has taught me that even in the most remote places... one can actually find authentic, good cuisine. Still unsure though, I leave my purse in the car. The plan of action is to walk in and ask for a menu- check out the atmosphere and if it is too dodgey, make a run for it.

I walk in and instantly know that I've made the right choice. It must be family owned because when I ask the kid at the front counter for a menu he says, "Dad... which one do I show her?"

The menu consists of home-made pastas and cannolis.... heaven to look at a menu like this. I soak up every word and have fun simply reading the descriptions of all the possible options of food.

My waitress... is a riot. She convinces me to order the chicken pasta dish with banana peppers and mushrooms. I ask her if it's spicy. She says no... that it's only spicy "in a banana-pepperish kind of way."

I go for it, knowing full well that servers' recommendations are usually trustworthy.

Meanwhile I sip on chardonnay and listen to beautiful romantic Italian music which makes me feel really sorry for my lonely self- Sitting here with my laptop while couples sit nearby in their business attire... likely sharing details of their day, comforting one another through conversation and the clink of their "cheers"  when the wine arrives.

Speaking of arrivals... the "not spicy" pasta entree comes. After a few first bites... my lips are on fire. I actually started sweating during the initial intake. I gulped down my water and added the extra ice to my chardonnay... But of course, my people-pleasing-self comments to the waitress, "excellent recommendation!!"

(Sigh)

Time for dessert. My heart was set on the cannoli... but the waitress convinces me otherwise. She goes into a 5 minute schpiel about the lemoncello mascarpone cake->  "Oh my gah girl! I don't even like lemon and this cake is aaammmaaaazzziinnngg!! Oh my gah!!"

I appreciate her passion for the cake, so, I go for it.

Meanwhile, a waiter starts bringing lit candles to all of the tables. He stops by my table and says..."do you want me to wait to put your candle here?"

No! By all means... give me the candle! I know I'm alone... but I am just as deserving of a candle lit dinner.... aren't I?

Anyway... the cake really was......  ammaaaazzzinnnggg.... I devoured every bite as I typed this blog... and even scraped the plate at the end.

(As a side note, Dancing with the Stars starts in two minutes so I am trying to figure out whether or not to stay for coffee or head back to the hotel...)

In any event... I know that one day I will not eat most dinner's alone- and I look forward to that time of my life... but for now... I will enjoy having just another romantic dinner.... with me, myself, and I.