A group of us went to dinner on Friday night at a seafood place on the coast. It wasn't a fish-and-chips sort of seafood place, but a gumbo sort of seafood place. The four people at our table, a table that swung out from the wall so that we were sitting on three sides of it, all had big bowls of marinara or gumbo or cioppino in front of us when the table fell off the wall.
It was my end of the table that fell off the wall, and my marinara sauce spilled onto my leg and arm, but the bowl didn't fall. The guy next to me got a full plate of pasta right in his lap (photos were taken), and the two people at the other end of the table were fine.
We got free dessert, and the pasta-in-lap guy got his dinner for free, and later on one of the people at the table said, "That has never happened to me before, that a table just fell like that."
"You haven't gone to dinner with me enough, then," I said. "Things like that happen to me all the time."
It was my end of the table that fell off the wall, and my marinara sauce spilled onto my leg and arm, but the bowl didn't fall. The guy next to me got a full plate of pasta right in his lap (photos were taken), and the two people at the other end of the table were fine.
We got free dessert, and the pasta-in-lap guy got his dinner for free, and later on one of the people at the table said, "That has never happened to me before, that a table just fell like that."
"You haven't gone to dinner with me enough, then," I said. "Things like that happen to me all the time."
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