How To Ruin My Lunch

So after yesterday's paean to New York, I thought I should follow it up with a story about the downside of the city.

Yesterday Steven and I decided to take advantage of our day-long adventure in babysitting by having lunch together. We picked a cute little restaurant with outdoor sidewalk seating that we'd been wanting to try for some time. We were sitting there on the sidewalk enoying our cold drinks and mulling over the menu when some guy crossed the street and strode purposefuly toward us.

"First time eating here?" said the guy.

I thought maybe he was affiliated with the restaurant, so I gave him a cheery "Yes!", as though I were expecting a lovely lunch and was just pleased to be alive.

"Last time I ate here I got food poisoning," he said, then promptly turned around and walked down the street.

Steven and I sat in stunned silence for a minute, watching him disappear around a corner. And let me just say, possibly the best way to kill someone's appetite is to announce you have gotten food poisoning from someplace and then not provide any further details.

"Was it the fish?" I wanted to yell down the street after him. The more I thought about it, the more it became clear that the possibilities were endless. Not only the menu possibilities, but, this being New York, there was also the possibility that the guy was in some sort of fight with the restaurant and just wanted to drive away customers. Maybe his ex-girlfriend was a waitress there. Maybe he'd been a former owner. Or, maybe it was the fish.