Free Drinks

When my Indiana friend, Jeff, told me he and Karen were going to the Cork and Cleaver to celebrate their thirty-third wedding anniversary I asked him if they had reservations. He said, “Yes.”

Why did I ask? Because that makes it much easier to stealthily buy their dinner. I called the restaurant shortly after I guessed they’d arrived and told the manager, Matthew, that I wanted to pay for the Ruthenburg’s dinner. He went off somewhere, to look at the reservation list, I assumed, and came back and said, “You’re too late. James Ruthenburg has already picked up the tab. ”

I thought, DAMN, now what? Thwarted! I’ve never failed at this. “Alright” I said, “I’ll pay for their drinks. Jeff likes Makers on the rocks and give Karen another glass of whatever she’s having.” I pictured a hefty glass of merlot. Mad that I missed out on buying dinner, I started rattling off my Mastercard number when Matthew stopped me.

“No, no. I don’t want your credit card for two drinks.”

I thought he was telling me he wasn’t going to let me buy those drinks. That he wouldn’t put so small an amount on a credit card. That pissed me off even more, so I really didn’t catch his last line.

“Next time you’re nearby stop in and you can pay me in cash.”

“Okay,” I said in a huff, and hung up. Then I realized what he’d said.