Thursday, October 29, 2015

Hearing Margaritaville

       Another story from the archives, this one written in February of 2009, and I've left it as if it were today.
        Sometimes in a movie someone will enter an empty room and there will be sounds from the past – parties or music or children playing. Memories from things that had occurred in that room come flooding back.
        That is what happened in real life today when we walked into, of all places, the Mexican restaurant near our house. Even though it is Saturday today, Mike was working all day – first going to Johns Creek and the lab to analyze samples he had collected yesterday, and then Mike had to drive to Lilburn to pick up an instrument he's going to need for a job in North Georgia tomorrow – which means he will be working all dang weekend. So it was not too surprising when he got home this afternoon that Mike offered to take me out for a beer.
We ran a couple of errands first, and then we stopped at the Mexican restaurant – which I am going to call Muy Grande. We had not been to Muy Grande in years, ever since that second cockroach incident – but I happened to mention that I had a 20% off coupon, and so there we went!
        Since it was late afternoon, the place was near empty. If it had been full of socializing people and bustling waitstaff, I don't think I would have experienced what I did. But as it was, nostalgia came over me in waves.
        The girls and I had come to Muy Grande so many times over the years. The first time was on a Saturday night during the World Series one October. The restaurant was packed. There was a band playing, and the tvs in each corner and over the bar were showing the baseball game and the volume was louder than the band. It was so noisy we couldn't talk, and we decided maybe we shouldn't go back there again.
        But we did.
        Today the waitress sat Mike and me at the same booth that the girls and I sat at one early week-night evening directly across from the platform where the band plays. And that time with the girls, a guitar player arrived and set up all his stuff and tuned and started to sing Margaritaville. Sarah and Amanda and I then had a new family expression “sooner or later, the live entertainment will sing Margaritaville.” We started a new tradition after that – we can't leave until we hear Margaritaville – and we always did!
        It is also the same booth we sat at one time with my friend Angela and her kids, Ashley and David. Ashley had ordered pizza which she saw on the menu and assumed was going to be a Mexican-style pizza. Haven't we all wondered about the pizza listed on the kids' menu section at the Mexican restaurants? When it arrived, the pizza was Italian and looked like something microwaved from the frozen section of the Publix which is in the same plaza. Angela had the pizza sent back, and Ashley ordered something else.
        And the booth behind the one we were sitting in today is where Mike and I sat one afternoon and watched as a cockroach nonchalantly crawled up the wall behind the band platform. It looked right at home next to the mandolin hanging there. There was no band playing at the time – so a waiter and a waitress tried to also look nonchalant as they used broom handles to try and get the bug off of the wall.
        The bug won.
        On the other side of the restaurant is a long narrow room with booths on both sides and one row of tables down the middle. The girls and I came in one crowded Friday night and were squeezed into one of the booths in that area. The tables down the middle were lined up end to end, and one party was taking up all of them. It was really noisy that night – but fun to watch. In one of the booths across from us we recognized a man from church. He later made he was through the chaos to come over and say hello. Above and beyond the call of duty!
        One time Eric and his family were in town. And we decided to get take-out from Muy Grande for dinner. We were going to call-in the order, but the last time we did that, the order was not understood correctly and came out all wrong. So Eric and I went to Muy Grande to order the food in person and wait for it. I pointed to the bench where people wait for their take-out orders, but Eric asked if I would like to have a drink at the bar while we waited?
        Oh my gosh! In all the years I had been going to Muy Grande, the bar was always something other – it would never have occurred to me to actually sit at the bar. And have a drink! What an absolutely novel idea! I felt like it was my eighteenth birthday or something.           The girls and I have known probably every booth and table in that restaurant, but that was the first time I sat at the bar!
        There was the time we went to Muy Grande after the first day of school one year. We sat in a booth and the girls excitedly told the events of the day. After a while we realized that one of their new teachers was sitting in the next booth and probably heard everything. And even though I have in my memory the teacher's profile as she sat there that day, I do not recall now which teacher she was.
        It was during their high school years that Sarah and Amanda were vegetarians, and I still coerced them into frequenting Muy Grande. There is not a whole lot on the menu for vegetarians – and there were other Mexican restaurants with wider vegetarian selections and better tasting food that the girls preferred. The good old days of Muy Grande were waning away.
        Then there was the final outing a couple of years ago when a cockroach was about eye level with me on the wall of our booth. In a reflex move, I flicked it. I thought it would be enough of a flick to transport the bug across the room, but it landed on Sarah's food. She was not happy.
        Today, our hiatus was over. We sat in Muy Grande, and I looked around. The long narrow section of the restaurant was empty. The booth where the teacher sat that day had a family with kids and a baby enjoying each other's company quietly. The televisions were on CNN. There was no one at the bar. The bartender was in the kitchen – but eventually he came out and poured us each a beer. We did not see any cockroaches, but I have a feeling they were about. A man arrived with his guitar and got everything set up. The memories swept over me and I waved my arm about to point out different places in the restaurant where the old times had been and told Mike all about them. The feelings were intense – nostalgia for the happy times of an age now past.
        I can point, but I can't grab.
        Who would have thought that our nearby Muy Grande would provide me with all that on a Saturday afternoon with a 20% off coupon? I was overwhelmed with the effect the place had on me today. As we were finishing up, the guitar player sang his first song. It was not Margaritaville, but Margaritaville was what I heard.
302 20151029 Hearing Margaritaville






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