On one of the trips where Marco and Roger visited, I was coming home from work on the bus. I remember getting off the bus, and seeing Marco there dressed up.

He led me to a quiet corner off the main path and said he had something different for me today. He had made a reservation at one of the local restaurants for us to have dinner together. How sweet! He had scheduled the reservation for a bit later, so we had some time to kill.

He led me to the local park that was on the way to the restaurant, and we sat down on one of the park benches. (Every time I pass by the park I think of this moment.) He said he had something for me. I was feeling positively spoiled and loved by this point. Not that I didn’t feel that before… But he pulled out a little bag, and inside of it was a pair of red earrings.

Now, a little bit about these earrings – I had been hinting for a while that I needed some red earrings to match one of my work outfits. It’s a running joke that I want earrings that match outfits in color. He knows I like earrings that dangle. I think he did an awesome job picking out these earrings!

After it was time, we headed off to the restaurant. It is actually an old house, since renovated. So each room only has one or two tables in it. It should be very cozy and private, although they seated a rather large table next to us and they were a bit boisterous. But c’est la vie.

(A side note… earlier in the trip, Roger, Marco and I were walking to Shoprite, which goes right past the restaurant. I was walking in front of them and said Oh look! It’s the expensive place! as that is all I had heard about it. Apparently Marco and Roger exchanged uh oh glances, as Marco had already made his reservation. But after a quick check of the menu online, Marco was relieved to find out that my definition of expensive isn’t… expensive.)

I don’t remember what I actually had as a main meal, but I can tell you the soda (pop!) they served was flat. I should have said something, but oh well. But the dessert was great… a cup of coffee (cappuccino?) with a fancily-spun stick of sugar to stir it with.

And of course the only awkward moment for me: I apparently suck at sitting down properly if a guy is trying to be a gentleman and push in your chair for you. But we survived, and had a laugh.

It was a great memory. It is nice that I walk past the restaurant and park at least once a week to be reminded of it.