9/28/24—-Happy first week of autumn- Picture a great sunny day as we cruise toward Cape Cod, no traffic in sight, and the Cape Cod air filling the car with promise. We were invited to my husband’s cousin’s house for some mouth-watering brick oven pizza. But since we were in the area, my husband decided it was a perfect time to swing by and visit an old friend of his. She lived close enough, and he figured, “Why not?”

So, we made our first stop. His friend was as lively as ever and had her heart set on eating lunch with a view of the ocean. The perfect Cape Cod experience, right? Well, little did we know, it was just the beginning of what would become a comedy of errors.

We were all hungry—my husband, his friend, and me—so when she offered to drive us to the restaurant, we eagerly piled into the car. That’s when things took a turn. As soon as we arrived, she issued her first command: “Get out of the car and put our name on the list,” she told my husband, sounding every bit like a general. Dutifully, he complied while she hunted for a parking spot.

By the time she and I joined him, there he was, sitting at the table with the menus already in hand. He was efficient, ready to eat and get back on track. But no—our friend had other ideas. In true dramatic fashion, she pointed to another table and declared, “Get up, we’re not sitting here.”

Out of sheer politeness, my husband stood, though the bewildered look on his face spoke volumes. We followed her to another table as she muttered something about where she "wanted" to sit. The waitress approached, ready to take our order, but no—there was still more drama to unfold.

"Did you see the hostess?" the waitress asked.

Without missing a beat, our friend replied, "I’m a long-time customer here," as if that excused her from the restaurant’s seating process.

By then, I had given up trying to make sense of it. I grabbed a book about Cape Cod from a nearby shelf and buried my head in it. The whole scene was becoming too much to bear, and it didn’t stop there. The manager soon came over, diplomatically trying to smooth things out, but our friend wasn’t backing down. An argument followed, though my husband and I sat there like spectators at a bizarre show. It seemed like we were on the verge of being thrown out, but by some miracle, we weren’t.

After what felt like an eternity of unnecessary drama, we ended up... right back at the original table my husband had chosen. The irony wasn’t lost on us, but by this point, I’d lost my appetite. My husband, on the other hand, needed to eat because of his medication, so he ordered oysters, which he said were quite good. Our friend happily ate her panini, blissfully unaware that her antics had dampened the mood but I could sense that the word had spread among the waitstaff about the little drama that had unfolded earlier. I used ti work at a five star hotel so I know 😉

We love her dearly—don’t get me wrong—but wow, what an ordeal. As my husband politely apologized to the manager later, we agreed that next time, we’d be the ones choosing where to eat. No more surprises. No more unnecessary drama.

kudos to the restaurant staff for handling it with grace! I want to say a big “thank you” to the restaurant team for being so courteous, even after the whole scene. Your professionalism didn’t go unnoticed, and we truly appreciated the way you kept everything running smoothly despite the hiccup!

The Lesson: When in doubt, take control of the situation before it controls you.

There’s an old saying that rings true here: “Too many cooks spoil the broth.” Sometimes, in life—and certainly at restaurants—it’s better to have a clear plan rather than letting someone else stir the pot. Had we just taken the reins from the start, we could’ve enjoyed that peaceful ocean view and lunch without the unnecessary spectacle. Next time, we’ll be ready