We headed to the hills this morning. In usual fashion, we were entirely unprepared for hungry children and spent a good third of the day deciding which tranquil looking tearoom to inflict ourselves on. Then I spotted her, tucked neatly in the foothills, a kitschy little cafe promising hot soup and homemade scones. “Will there be chippies?” the children cried, “Of course,” I said as I dragged my husband’s hesitant hand up the hill.
Not a soul was in that cafe. When I looked at my husband’s face, a moment passed between us that screamed, “GET OUT!” but just as quickly, it was gone.
As we were greeted by the visually impaired octogenarian, I could feel my husband’s cerebral matter pleading me to leave but when I took that menu and stepped onto the floor of the restaurant, somehow triggering an incredibly bad country song to begin playing, there was no way in hell I was going back.
While we were left to discuss the menu options of soup, scones, soup and soup – my husband looked me square in the face and said, “They’re going to chop us up into small pieces.” I was overjoyed.
The children were disappointed in the lack of chips or nuggets, one looked frightened. This pleased me. Perhaps they would sit still for a change. All the while, the soundtrack to No Country for Old Men played loudly in the background.
There is a profound difference between my husband and I. When I see strange, I want in. He smells it from eighty paces and wants to run the other direction. The jokes were coming thick and fast. He assured me that by the bathroom was a freezer housing all the bodies. I slurped on my home made Minestrone and laughed, “The music’s pretty creepy isn’t it?”
After our meal we were invited to check out the gardens. My husband wouldn’t let up on the jokes, when I realised the only way out was back through the restaurant, I panicked “Oh MY GOD!! They are totally going to chop us up into tiny pieces!!!”
Alas, here we are. And with all our limbs intact. “Wouldn’t you rather eat somewhere and share a memory that lasts forever?” I asked my husband, “I certainly won’t forget it,” he said.