The Lost Patricia

Last night I was supposed to meet Tom for dinner at The Lost Dog, but when I arrived the street was blocked off and the building was surrounded by at least a dozen vans and trucks, with hoses running out from the building into the street. We wound up dining at Tranquil instead, where we both speculated about the recent stretch of frigid weather and the possibiities of a frozen pipe.

Turns out we were right-- a frozen pipe on the fourth floor had burst, and at one point there was apparently several inches of water in the restaurant. No word on when they'll be able to reopen, whether it's going to be days/weeks/months.

My immediate reaction was quelle horreur! since apparently I lapse into French when distressed. What will I do on Saturdays if I can't have lunch at the bar, while I mark up my latest pages? Where will I get my fix of sweet potato fries? How dare the universe interrupt my routine?

Tomorrow was going to be my first day off since New Year's, and I was planning on enjoying it to the hilt, and now I don't know what I'll do. I'll probably drive there anyway out of habit, stare at the building in the forlorn hope that I can somehow will a miraculous recovery, and then wander off elsewhere to sulk.

The Lost Patricia

Last night I was supposed to meet Tom for dinner at The Lost Dog, but when I arrived the street was blocked off and the building was surrounded by at least a dozen vans and trucks, with hoses running out from the building into the street. We wound up dining at Tranquil instead, where we both speculated about the recent stretch of frigid weather and the possibiities of a frozen pipe.

Turns out we were right-- a frozen pipe on the fourth floor had burst, and at one point there was apparently several inches of water in the restaurant. No word on when they'll be able to reopen, whether it's going to be days/weeks/months.

My immediate reaction was quelle horreur! since apparently I lapse into French when distressed. What will I do on Saturdays if I can't have lunch at the bar, while I mark up my latest pages? Where will I get my fix of sweet potato fries? How dare the universe interrupt my routine?

Tomorrow was going to be my first day off since New Year's, and I was planning on enjoying it to the hilt, and now I don't know what I'll do. I'll probably drive there anyway out of habit, stare at the building in the forlorn hope that I can somehow will a miraculous recovery, and then wander off elsewhere to sulk.