Yeah, so, on Saturday I ventured out of the house to have brunch at Brunch Drunk Love in Bruno’s with good buddies Tiff, DH and Karen.
I took BART to the Mission and walked to the restaurant because I knew I was going to drink too many mimosas. It is called Brunch DRUNK Love, after all.
Of course, unsurprisingly, I was the first one to arrive. I usually am. I pulled up a chair to the bar.
Bartender: “What can I get you?”
Me: “May I have a mimosa, please?”
Bartender: “Sure thing.”
He brings me my drink.
Me: “Thank you, my good man.”
Apparently, I thought I was talking to my husband and not a bartender in the Mission. Then I glanced up at the muted TV screen, which was playing “Airplane!”
I think I sat there for about 15 or 20 minutes, sipping a mimosa and laughing out loud at a TV with no sound. I’ve seen “Airplane” a million times, and I don’t need the volume turned up to enjoy it. I must have looked like a complete nut job.
Speaking of me looking like a nut job, while we were waiting for our table, I saw a couple with a baby that is probably about the boy’s age, about four months old. They were trading him back and forth while they had brunch with their friends. I said to Tiff, “I bet if I went over there and asked them if I could hold their baby while they ate, they would say yes. They would let a complete stranger hold their baby if it meant they could have a hot meal together uninterrupted.”
I almost walked over to their table and offered. I had to stop myself.