The case of the missing fruit plate
Once every few blue moons, I seem to be in the right place at the right time.
Christmas Eve was one of those nights. I came to the Pfister for a couple of hours before a holiday party and drifted around from the Lobby Bar to the lobby to Blu. During my wanderings, I noticed a family of four in every hotel locale I went to. We were even on the elevator together.
If I were a paranoid person, I would have thought they were following me. Or maybe they thought I was following them …
In any case, by the time we were all at Blu – I had seen them sitting on the couches in the lobby, in the Lobby Bar and on the elevator. Both curiosity and the question of a possible karmic connection made me feel like I had to approach them. Well, the karmic connection part isn’t true, but I was truly curious what was going on because, truth be told, they really didn’t look very happy.
I walked up to the family and told them who I was and asked how they were doing. It turns out, they had been in a series of “who’s on first” mis-communications and were now sitting in Blu still trying to sort it all out.
Here’s the deal: About an hour before, they had ordered two appetizers – nachos and a fruit plate – in the Lobby Bar, but there wasn’t anywhere to sit. So they asked if they could take the appetizers to Mason Street Grill just down the hallway and were told the plates would be sent there shortly. However, when they got to Mason, the restaurant was not open yet and so they went to the concierge who arranged for the appetizers to get sent to Blu. But, lo and behod, when they got to Blu, the staff had not been informed of the plan yet and and so still no appetizers.
“We actually thought you, Molly, were bringing our appetizers when you came up to us,” said the mother / wife.
“Oh,” I said. “I am sorry. I’m just the narrator with a beer in tow.”
I sat down anyway and I started talking with the family of four – Barbara and Ben and their two children – about Detroit. Ben works for Ford and hence he and his family are currently living outside of Detroit. I had just been there twice in a two years, travel writing about the city.
I went on to tell them I did not write a negative article about the city, instead two articles that were about the hopeful aspects of the area from victory gardens to new bars and restaurants in the Corktown neighborhood. Then we started really discussing the ups and downs of one the most controversial and sometimes misunderstood cities in the nation.
Before we knew it, the appetizers were there, along with heartfelt apologies from the staff.
They invited me to parttake in the appetizer eating. And it was Christmas Eve and I was laughing comfortably and enjoying a Guinness with people I just met but with whom felt like friends.
I really love a happy ending. Especially one that ends with food and drink.