… you gotta wonder who names these places?
A FRIEND WHO I’VE KNOWN FOR DECADES called me and wanted to meet me for lunch at a place she’d recently discovered. She thought the food and service were great– plus we needed an adventure, she said.
I asked what was the name of this fine establishment where we’d be lunching. And that’s when the conversation took a turn for the worse.
It’s called Again With The Eggs Cafe, she said.
… Or maybe it’s called All About Eggs Cafe?
She couldn’t remember.
• • •
I ASKED WHERE THIS NEW DELIGHTFUL RESTAURANT, whatever its name might be, was located. Come to find out it was about halfway between where we each live, so it made sense to go there.
It’s called Broken Eggs Again Cafe, she declared.
That’s it. That’s the name of the place.
… Or maybe it’s called Something About Broken Eggs Cafe.
I can’t remember the name, she said.
[No kidding, thought I.]
However, despite not knowing the precise name of this restaurant, located in a new “lifestyle center,” she could tell me exactly how to get there. And how to safely navigate the “lifestyle center” parking lot, designed by the makers of whack-a-mole.
• • •
AND THAT WAS GOOD ENOUGH FOR ME, a woman who started driving pre-Garmin. Who survives life in the big city sans smart phone.
Who’s been lost more times than found when it comes to going to lunch with friends.
So off I went to have lunch at this charming little restaurant, with the impossible-to-remember name, called: Another Broken Egg Cafe.
… you can understand her confusion, can’t ‘ya?
• • •