Paul Richardson: Fat boys don't fold well

There is a clandestine date every Tuesday morning. I meet with my girlfriend, and we go to breakfast. 

Before you go off the deep end, I will have you know that my girlfriend is the good wife. Yep, one and the same. One of the things that I have learned over the years is that when I choose and include women in my life, they all must bear the same name. A very efficient and safe practice. 

In my case, I simply have a good wife that I view from a multitude of facets making her the many and yet the one and only.










So, back to the Tuesday morning breakfast date. We have a list of cafes and restaurants that we have vetted and visit on a regular rotation. The good wife and I are both foodies. We have eaten all sorts of good food, and some bad food. At this point in our life, we have decided that we are just simply going to restrict our diet to the good food. We are not required to eat the bad food, having been blessed with the wherewithal to pick and choose, we choose the good food.

During the week of this writing, Tuesday morning found us in the city. The plan was to complete the earliest appointment, at which time there should have been a margin of unoccupied time during which we could go and get breakfast. 

The destination had been identified and I was patiently waiting for the first appointment to end. Unfortunately, that visit ran long, real long, and it was determined that the time remaining would not allow us to go to any of the places that we would have preferred. 

Being the ever-chivalrous husband, I let the good wife choose our destination. Her choice was one that seemed to bear merit and acceptable. Before I go on, let me state that the food was good, but there are other things to consider.

One of the items that the good wife ordered to accompany our breakfast was a cinnamon roll. When said roll was brought to the counter, I requested that it be heated at which time the clerk promptly pointed an adjacent area and stated, “There is a microwave over there for your use for heating this cinnamon roll.” 

Unusual for a place that is a little bit “foo-foo” with pricing that is higher than normal and portion sizes that are very petite and pale in comparison to the establishments that I normally frequent.

I finally locate the microwave with the assistance of the good wife. It is on a lower shelf below the coffee station, a shelf that is less than knee high on me and in addition it was buried in a very dark corner. I am bent over trying to see the display while placing everything in the microwave and starting the oven. 

This is a prime situation for a fat boy to simply pass out. Had that occurred, I would have been in a three-point stance with my forehead and both feet being the bearing points for a moment, followed by me toppling over to one side.

A unique breakfast date, one that will be remembered. This particular place did not make it through the vetting process. Good food, but there is more than food to be considered!