Dateline Boston — This week I met a friend for dinner. She was going to a meeting in Harvard Square—yes, that Harvard Square, the home of Harvard University. When I think of places to eat in that area, all I can come up with is burger joints, because that’s all I ever go to, apparently. I did a quick Facebook poll to see where to take a foodie in Harvard Square. A restaurant that I had actually been to was named; I chose that place since I knew how to get there.
The weather was weird that day, as is often the case in Boston. That morning I had put on a nice long sleeved shirt, a cardigan, and a windbreaker, in case it rained. Unfortunately, during the day my shirt got baby poop on it due to a diaper blowout. It was right at the time we had to pick up the oldest from the bus, and the baby was crying. I grabbed the first clean thing I saw in the laundry basket—a tee shirt I had given the kids’ dad for his 40th birthday. It had a fake Starbucks logo on it, with a picture of Taylor Swift’s face, and it said, “Starbucks Lover”—a reference to an often misheard lyric from the song “Blank Space.” As I left work to go to Harvard Square, I buttoned up my sweater so I looked slightly more presentable.
Still, I was freezing; it had dipped into the 50s. I hate being cold. On the way to the restaurant, I went looking for a hooded sweatshirt. I stopped into the Harvard Coop because I knew there would be sweatshirts there. I tried on a fitted hoodie. The arms were too tight and too long. Also, it was $69. No, thanks. The clerk told me that there was a Gap two doors down. I thanked her and rushed over.
I found what I was looking for immediately. There, on the children’s clearance rack, was a red hoodie, size XL, with NY embroidered on the front. It was $9.78, my kind of price. It brought to four the number of children’s hoodies I have gotten because I was cold. I asked the clerk to cut off the tags, and I put it on over my tee shirt and cardigan, then I put my windbreaker on over that. I looked like I was on my way to a Red Sox baseball game, not to a fancy restaurant.
A Proper Setting
The restaurant was in a nice hotel. I think it was Harvard’s graduation that night, because it looked like there were lots of families milling around, and at least one person in full advanced degree cap and gown. I was brought to a table, where I peeled off my layers until I looked presentable in my cardigan. I was warm from running, so I pushed up my sleeves to reveal both of my forearms covered in tattoos. No matter what I did, I would not fit in with this crowd.
A waitress came over and asked if I’d like some water or something else to drink. I said no thanks, I’d wait for my friend. A couple of minutes later, a man arrived with a water pitcher, and he poured us two glasses of water. I thanked him. The first waitress came back and apologized, saying she hadn’t gotten a chance to talk to her co-worker, and would I like to have the water taken away? Yowsa! No, I’d drink the water, it was okay, really.
I glanced around the restaurant, looking for my friend. A waiter who was drying glasses immediately came over, asking if I needed anything. I said to him with a wink, “You’re good, but no thanks, I was just looking for my friend.” The attention, even for a major extrovert like myself, was a little too much for me.
My friend arrived and we ordered. The food came out and WOW! Made up for any awkwardness previously, clothing or staff wise. My salad had grilled peaches. Have you ever had a grilled peach? Try it! The pot roast melted when I touched it. Outstanding.
My friend had to catch a plane, so we weren’t able to see the dessert menu. I figure I’ll save that for the next time I go to this restaurant. When I haven’t been working and I can wear a nice long sleeved shirt and a proper jacket.
Ms. Vaillancourt may be contacted at snobbyblog@gmail.com
