Author’s Note: Originally drafted 4/19/2022. Minor updates to make it suitable for publication.

To celebrate the twentieth anniversary of closing on our house in the Hudson Valley, we thought it would be nice to go out to dinner. After scouring the menus of local establishments that offered vegan and gluten free options, and that weren’t closed on Mondays, we settled on the first restaurant that we ever ate at locally. Pulling into a parking spot right in front, our hearts sank seeing signs in the window that it was closed because of a mechanical issue.

Not to be deterred, we drove up the street to another possibility. In short order, we were seated in a booth, enjoying a salad and some red wine, waiting for a pizza. The restaurant was packed and I remarked on the collapsible screens that sat atop the wooden dividers that separated the booths—a Covid safety measure no doubt. Moments later, a sort of vacuum effect occurred within the air lock between the restaurant’s inner and outer doors, sending the collapsible screen behind me down onto my head, knocking wine into my salad and onto my shirt and jeans. My dining companion and a kind patron at an adjacent table swiftly helped to remove said screen from atop my head. This was followed by apologies from the staff and inquiries from fellow diners as to my welfare.

After cleaning-up in the restroom, I returned to a clean plate and a fresh glass of wine. We spent the rest of the meal laughing at and reconstructing the chain of events. The staff were exceedingly kind and we tipped them generously when they informed us that the restaurant was buying our dinner. As we were leaving, we let them know that it was our anniversary locally and that they had added another memory to our time here.

At the suggestion of a fellow patron, we bought a lottery ticket on the way home. Alas, it was not a winner. But, hey, we got a free dinner. While I ended up with a slight nick on my head, it will heal. And thanks to some wine stain remover, my jeans and shirt are as good as new.