The Unmindful Evening
Sometimes small events relate to important issues.
Three consecutive times that I looked at my computer’s digital clock it showed 4:44. The final hour of my work day had been dragging on far too long, producing flashbacks of my classes in middle school. This was Friday, and I had what should be a wonderful night ahead of me: going to a favorite restaurant with my girlfriend, and a few of her friends. I knew that once I’d left the office, I’d be relaxed and content.
The instant the clock showed 5:00, I unplugged my laptop, stuffed it into my bag, and hurried out of the office. I barely noticed the beautiful sunset as I raced through the crisp, chilly Denver air to my car. We’d have to hurry to make it to the restaurant on time.
When I arrived at Rebecca’s apartment and called her, and she said she’d need 10 minutes to finish getting ready, I complained, reminding her that we were already late. She said she’d hurry, and as she finally approached the car I briefly noticed how stunning she looked, then remembered that I needed to be upset because she was slowing us down.
Traffic was worse than usual as we slowly made our way into downtown Denver. When we reached the restaurant fifteen minutes late, our friends hadn’t yet arrived. Things got worse when I asked for a table for 5, and the hostess informed us there would be a 30-45 minute wait.
A few minutes later the five of us ended up at the bar, drinking overpriced cocktails as we waited for our table. This led me to worrying about my habit of eating out and spending money I should be saving instead.
One of Rebecca’s friends and I were talking, with the bar music so loud we nearly had to yell to hear one another. I had little interest in the conversation, and pitied myself for having to scream meaningless pleasantries and, at the same time, do my best to hide my annoyance. If we ever got a table, I thought I’d be able to relax and and enjoy the rest of the evening.
When we were finally seated, I already knew what kind of sandwich I wanted, and I was hungry. Our waitress took our drink orders, and we began to talk as a group. After ordering food, I sat and tried again to engage in conversation with Rebecca’s friends. When their subject didn’t interest me, I tried to turn the topic to something I cared about.
It suddenly seemed cold in the restaurant, so I pulled my jacket over my shoulders. Then I noticed myself feeling a bit disoriented, with low energy and a slight headache. I began to fear that I was getting sick, and wished I’d brought my wellness pills with me to dinner.
When the food arrived at last, I dug in without hesitation, and the sandwich and everything with it tasted great. But as I ate I worried about the moment when I no longer had anything left on my plate. Was I being rude by eating too fast? Had I ordered enough? Did I have snacks at home to satisfy my hunger?
When I finished my food I immediately lost patience with sitting and waiting to leave the restaurant. The noise was too loud and I was tired. The waitress took too long to arrive with the bill. I imagined myself back home, comfortably watching a favorite tv show, finally feeling happy.