I have always enjoyed a bit of spontaneity in my life. When our kids were little, we’d be out running errands as a family and, when the whim seized me, I would stop at an ice cream store. I’d tell the kids that our van seemed to want to take a break from time to time and it preferred stopping at ice cream stores. It seemed to also enjoy an occasional break in the parking lot of a particular soft yogurt store as well. I still enjoy surprising Susan with a trip that starts in one direction and ends up in another. I’ve noticed that our son will do a very similar thing with our grandchildren and I enjoy it every time I get to be along for such an adventure.

Yesterday, I felt like having fish and chips. We have quite a bit of variety in our diet these days, as we have had wonderful weather for cooking outdoors and so enjoy chops and burgers and roasts cooked on the grill in addition to the usual fare we make in the kitchen. I have a small oven that sits on top of the grill so can cook biscuits, cornbread and even pizza on the grill. And we have discovered that we have more access to fresh seafood living near the coast. But occasionally, I get a hankering from something that we don’t cook at home. I’ve used frozen fish and french fries a few times, but my at home efforts don’t match the real crispy fish and chips that I enjoy. Since we had plenty of time, we decided to drive over to Anacortes, about 25 miles from home. Our plan was to take a walk through the forest at the edge of the island in the late afternoon and then stop and pick up fish and chips to go from a restaurant and return home.

As we walked, we formulated a variation on our plan. We decided that rather than risk having our meal cool on the drive home we’d just go ahead and eat in a restaurant we knew that has outdoor seating. We’ve eaten in that restaurant in previous years, before the pandemic, and have fond memories of family meals shared there. We arrived at the restaurant around 6 pm to discover that they didn’t have any outdoor seating. Since we are both fully vaccinated and the restaurant had plexiglass screens between booths, we decided to dine in. The dine in portion of the restaurant is a bit fancier than our normal, but like most others, we haven’t eaten out in a restaurant for quite a while and decided that a splurge would be fun.

The meal was excellent. I got my fish and chips and Susan had rockfish served in a mango sauce with fresh asparagus and rice. The service was excellent and the meal memorable. I joked with Susan about finally getting her to go on a date with me.

Some things surprised me. I guess I had forgotten how loud a busy restaurant is. We’ve been so used to our quiet meals together that I found it nearly impossible to have conversation with all that was going on around us. There were several groups of people sitting at booths and tables. They weren’t large groups, but five or six people can make quit a bit of noise when they are having a good time. And our table was close to the kitchen, where I could see the cooks busy preparing and delivering meals. It was reassuring to see the care and cleanliness of the kitchen, but there was considerable banging of pots and pans and they did their work. There was music playing in the background, but no one seemed to be listening to it. The place was filled with sound.

I admit that my hearing is not as good as it once was. But I suspect that the sounds of the restaurant were normal for that place. I think that in more than a year without dining out except for quick meals when traveling, I had forgotten what a crowded restaurant sounds like. I would think twice before eating there again. We could have gotten our meals to go and stopped in a nearby park and had an atmosphere more conducive to conversation.

One of the treats of retirement is that we have more time together and have more time for conversation, so we aren’t exactly starved for opportunities to talk. On the other hand, the more we get to talk, the more we enjoy talking and so far we haven’t run out of things to say to each other.

I remember years ago commenting that there were multiple ways to have a private conversation in a restaurant. Some restaurants isolate diners in tall booths or private corners and provide what seems like a private space for conversation. Others are so busy and loud that you are pretty sure no one else could be listening to what you have to say. That second kind of privacy might have worked for us when my hearing was better, but these days a lot of crowd noise makes it nearly impossible for me to understand what is being said unless my companion raises her voice, something that is unlikely to happen unless there is some kind of emergency.

Nonetheless, I don’t regret following the spur of the moment decision. The state has been very careful in its phased return to business and the restaurant was clearly complying with pandemic precautions. Everyone wore face masks, except diners when seated at their tables. There was plenty of hand sanitizer. The restaurant offered a touch-free menu that could be read with a cell phone to minimize contact. Booths were carefully sanitized between diners and there was enough space between diners. The restaurant had high ceilings and exhaust fans that probably added to the background noise. We didn’t feel like we were spreading disease by eating there. And it was a rare night out. We don’t plan to make it a regular event.

Sometimes, however, the mood just seizes you and often it is a good choice to listen to the mood.