May 27, 2005
Constance and I went out to celebrate the impending move. She calls it the "bounce into the lovenest." I don't know what that means. After many a veto we decided on Italian. (Insert your Bertolucci joke here Diary) There's a no name place over in Thousand Oaks I like to go to. The owner and I did some black box theater back in the day. Anyway, our waiter was a greenhorn, on several occasions I caught him checking his palm for the specials. I felt it my duty to give him a baptism by fire. I ordered an entree for an appetizer and tiramisu for dinner. I then told him to bring it all to me after the check. That sagged his apron. Constance started flirting with me under the table, and soon I found it impossible to keep tabs on him. I didn't even get to pull the old sea salt/ peppermill routine. Maybe next time.