Conversations with My Father: Restaurant Week Edition

MY FATHER: Happy birthday!

ME: Why, thank you very much!

MY FATHER: You’re old.

ME: Gee, thanks.

MY FATHER: You’re definitely not a kid any more.

ME: Well, I certainly am glad you pointed that out.

MY FATHER: I remember when I turned fifty—

ME: Jesus Christ I’m not fifty!

MY FATHER: I was kind of touchy when I turned fifty, too.

ME: Anyway.

MY FATHER: Are you doing anything special for your birthday? Going out?

ME: Well, we’re going out for pizza tonight, but last night we went into Manhattan and went to one of the restaurants participating in Restaurant Week.

MY FATHER: What is Restaurant Week?

ME: It’s a promotional thing they do in the city where various restaurants will offer $25 lunch specials and $38 dinner specials from a set menu.

MY FATHER: Thirty-eight dollars?

ME: Yes.

MY FATHER: Thirty-eight dollars just for dinner?

ME: It was three courses. Appetizer, entree, dessert.

MY FATHER: For thirty-eight dollars?

ME: These are fairly upscale—

MY FATHER: Gawrsh, for thirty-eight dollars at Denny’s you could get—

ME: We don’t have Denny’s in Manhattan.

MY FATHER: Did you check?

ME: For three courses in New York City, thirty-eight dollars is pretty reasonable.

MY FATHER: Gawrsh. The thirty-eight dollars is for one person?

ME: This’ll get you going. Craig had a choir member who gave him a gift card to a local fancy restaurant and we went last week for our anniversary and spent a hundred and seventy dollars for the two of us, so. . . .

MY FATHER (horrified): A hundred and seventy dollars?

ME: It was a special occasion.

MY FATHER: You could feed a family of twenty at Denny’s with—

ME: We don’t have Denny’s in Connecticut.

MY FATHER: Gawrsh. What did you eat?!

ME: Well, I had the filet mignon, and that was fifty-five dollars on its own.

MY FATHER: I hope you took some of that home with you!

ME: Why in the world would I take any of a really good meal home? I ate it all. It was delicious.

MY FATHER: Because it was fifty-five dollars!

ME: But it wasn’t even our money we were spending. It was a gift card.

MY FATHER: Gawrsh! This is totally out of my world.

ME: Anyway, I also had an appetizer of an artichoke baked with goat cheese, and—

MY FATHER: So you didn’t take anything home? The fancy restaurant was too cheap to give you a doggie bag?

ME: I didn’t need a doggie bag because I ate everything. Anyway, since this topic is obviously distressing to you. . . .

MY FATHER: The portions were that tiny? You didn’t have anything left over? Well no wonder they’re so fancy if they’re giving you such tiny—

ME: I did not have any leftovers.

MY FATHER: Gawrsh. For fifty-five dollars I would expect what’s on my plate to last for at least three meals. Gawrsh! When I go out to eat, sometimes I have enough leftovers—

ME: I guess I’m a hog.

MY FATHER: All right. If that’s the way you want to do things. . . .

ME: It was delicious.

MY FATHER: Just remember at Denny’s—

ME: We don’t have Denny’s in New England.