Pops lives 2 1/2 hours away but work meetings require his occasional romp to my town. This week happened to be his State Agents Meeting (capitalized because it’s “serious stuff”)

The rest of this entry is just the opposite.

At 4:45 he surprises me with a call asking me what’s for dinner and letting me know he’s coming to town (in that order)  Planning to meet later, we hang up. At 7:30 he calls and our convo was basically this:

Me: “What do you want to do?”

Daddy: “You tell me.”

Me: “Noooo sir, I live here. I can do anything here all the time. You’re the guest.”

Daddy: “OK, how ’bout let’s go to Cracker Barrel or Copeland’s.”

I’ll leave off the rest of our conversation.

I meet him at his hotel and “save” his parking spot so he can get it when we return. (Do you know anybody like that?) He drives us a few miles then exclaims “Oooooh Texas Roadhouse!”  I mention the China buffet Panda Garden is nearby. Finally we end up at… the China buffet.

Scoop 'o this, spoon 'o that

I learned so many things during our meal. I should have taken notes. Following is some of the caliber conversation we shared.

You should not drink ice water with your meal because it solidifies oil in the food and can (insert unpalatable details here)…cause a heart attack. I have no doubt that’s true.

I fill my first plate with salad, sushi and *fake* crab. On my dad’s plate I see ribs and other buffet fare. After noticing my wasabi and ginger complimenting my sushi, we discuss the importance of both. The face he makes while trying to swallow the ginger is priceless. It reminds him of “the soap in a hotel in Hawaii” His taste of wasabi is (unfortunately for me) taken while I am going back for seconds so I don’t get to witness his raw reaction. He WILL NOT eat sushi but he does allow the occasional California Roll. (Even if he bathes it in soy sauce and cuts it in half with a fork the same manner you would a bite of cake.

California Roll (not technically sushi?) The debate continues

We scope out the room and notice every other diner. Now we are commentating what’s going on at the table…and with their individual lives. What and how much they are eating. Shoes. Phone conversations. Other important details of the strangers we’ll never see again.

Daddy: “I wonder if they washed these grapes….”
Me: “We’re at a buffet. Of all the things on the buffet and all the things that could happen in the kitchen we don’t see…and you’re worried about the grapes being washed?”

We read each other our fortunes from the cheap, brittle, flavorless but festive fortune cookies and walk out the door. Back at the hotel he invites me to come watch TV in  his room if I want…until he falls asleep. Thank you, Daddy, for the dinner date. But, as tempting as that is, I think I’ll just drive myself home now. But you have my number…so next time you’re in town…