Last Spring Break, Zoe and I spent a week down in Carlsbad at the Four Seasons Aviara, with Zoe's best friend, and her best friends mom (whose place we stayed at). Over the course of the week other friends with kids would come, spend the night, and then move on.
One night, three moms and our daughters went to dinner at the Hotel. It was not the poshest of the dining choices, by any stretch of the imagination. But, as we sat down, the waiter scurried away, and in short order returned with three black napkins. One for each black-clad mom.
It was the first time I'd ever seen such a thing. And I loved it.
The fabulousness of the black cloth napkin stayed with me, and though I've had literally hundreds of dining-out experiences since then, I've never been given a black napkin again.
Until last week.
I had a business lunch at The City Club. As we were shown to a private dining room, the captain walked in directly behind us, armed with five freshly pressed and nicely folded black napkins. I was ever so happy as it was opened for me and I set it down in my lap over my smart black linen skirt.
You know, I work in downtown Los Angeles. And while there is a small residential population, the primary denizens of downtown are business people. I go to a fair number of business lunches. And with few exceptions, most of us are in dark clothes. You'd think that more downtown restaurants would get the message.
Black napkins please!
That message was driven home to me even more pointedly today. I had yet another business lunch. Today it was at The Stinking Rose. (While at first blush you would not consider this an idea business lunch choice, it was with a long-known associate and we live to out-garlic each other.) I once again was in a black skirt. I was forced to use a white napkin.
I spent the better part of the afternoon picking white "napkin pills" off my black skirt.
Posted by beth at May 11, 2004 05:00 PM