Two Years and Counting
Written By: Tracy Block on Wed, Aug 22nd 2007
In college, I used to complain that I would never have a boyfriend, that I’d be single forever and the last one to find a man. Today, I look back and laugh, because when I met Craig, it was random, unexpected and certainly not something I was on the lookout for.
They say that good things come to those who wait, and by my 21st year, I had waited long enough. Two years later, Craig and I honor our two years together with a toast and some good Japanese cooking.
Ever since we were kids, it was customary to celebrate birthdays and special occasions at Benihana. This year, Craig and I decided our two-year anniversary was important enough to celebrate with one of our favorite Asian cuisines and a front row show.
If you have ever been to Benihana, or any hibachi-style restaurant of that nature, you know that if you’re a couple, you do not have a choice when it comes to your seating arrangement. And of course, as so often tends to be the case, Craig and I were seated next to a strange party of six, dining for a young girl’s birthday. My first instinct was to move tables, but that would have required another 45-minute wait. And once you’re seated at the table, the last thing you want to do is get up.
So we suffered. Okay, so we didn’t suffer, but we dealt with the non-romantic experience and tried to have fun anyway. We immediately ordered some cocktails, hoping to take the edge off of the seating situation. Craig ordered a split of a Spanish bubbly and I chose a Sauvignon Blanc from the list, which has been a top choice of mine throughout the summer. We sipped our wine and listened to the bizarre family tales being told next to us.
As we waited for soup and salads, we decided to order chicken and filet mignon, a nice treat for a special night. The chef finally approached, and we prepared for his show.
Twirling kitchenware like a bartender with flair, our Hibachi master showed us the art of utensil tossing, constructing a volcano out of an onion and preparing a stellar meal. As the chicken fried rice was plated, the father of the birthday girl requested the burnt rice shavings the chef scraped off the Hibachi surface, and all I could do to hold back was stuff another forkful of rice down my throat. Craig kicked me under the table, and I swear I almost lost it.
We wound down with some orange sherbet and vanilla ice cream before calling it a night. Since I had to work the next day, we made it an early evening and headed home for some one on one time. We exchanged gifts (and yes, he remembered to get me flowers!) and I presented Craig with a written poem, gift enclosed.
Full bellies intact, we relaxed for a while before Craig left me to my slumber. Now that I look back on our evening, I smile, because although I was annoyed by the lack of intimacy at dinner, at least I had my laughing partner by my side to make light of the mood and convince me that all we really needed was each other. And the vino didn’t hurt the evening, either.
