Lunch with a Princess, or How Not to Impress

Today was one of those days. You all know which ones I mean. The kind of day where the longer it wears on, the less things seem to go right.

Today was the day I got to have lunch with the Barista. I had to go to Seattle in the morning to get a client introduced to his new counsel, and normally this should have gone off with out a hitch. Today was not normal. This morning brought driving rain and winds to the Puget Sound area. This means that 95% of the people on the road have lost their minds and completely forgotten how to drive. I got to my office in lovely downtown Auburn just fine. I left shortly after 9 for a 10:30 meeting. Should have been no problem...its only about 35 miles. Yeah, right.

I didn't walk into the meeting until 11, and the Princess and I were set to meet on the other side of the freeway at 11:30. I called her, made my abject apologies, and asked if were could move it to 12:30. She told me that she would have to switch with someone who made plans, but she would see what she could do. It worked out. Unfortuantely, my client was feeling rather loquatious. This was a problem, because he takes a long time to get to point on a good day. I excused myself at 12:30 to use the restroom, called and left a message letting her knw we were wrapping it up, and I would be there as soon as I could. I asked her to start without me.

12:50 found me running down the street to the parking garage, and entering the circus of frustration that are Seattle city streets. I called her when I was on my way to the car, and like a truly gracious lady, she asked if she could order for me. Of course I accepted. She asked what I wanted. Being my easygoing self, I said "Whatever is good." Stepping above and beyond the call of normal courtesy, she actually read the menu to me. I made my selection, and I told her that since I was the one screwing up, lunch was on me today. I figured any gentleman should simply expect to do that.

After a 15 minute drive to go about a mile, I got to the parking garage across the street from the cafe, where I had to spend some time searching for a spot. Then I hustled outside only to wait what seemed to be an eternity for the signal to change. I finally got to the cafe, and when I entered, I saw the only Princess in the place waiving at me. I guess it was easy, look for the big guy in a suit and spikey hair. We only got about 7 minutes of face time, which was enough to make me feel somewhat self conscious about my tardiness and slightly dishevled appearance. Through it all, she displayed a certain je ne sais quoi that I assume all real Princesses have. A certain manner and bearing that can put anyone at ease, and is polite enough to overlook what might otherwise be perceived as a slight or offense.
I really could not stop myself from smiling as I rose when the short minutes were up, and she had to go. I ate my sandwich quietly, watching the people walking up and down the street, and when I went to ask for the check when I went to leave, I was informed that she had paid the bill. I have to confess that after my incusable tardiness, that made me feel rather small. Considering the fact I'm 6'4", that was no insignificant accomplishment.

Next time, if there is a next time, the lunch is on me. No argument, please.