I’ve been cautious lately, especially in the midst of this pandemic. As you know, I’m trying to keep my bubble small. The other night, my family and I went out to celebrate my husband’s birthday. We went to Rothman’s in Jericho.
That evening, the wind was fierce at 50 miles an hour, but we sat outside anyway. No one in my family feels safe sitting inside a restaurant at this point.
Rothman’s had several heat lamps set up in the front of the restaurant on their patio. Beyond the heat lamps were bushes so that it was private. However, you could still hear the cars rushing by on Jericho Turnpike. The humming sound of the traffic at first bothered us but then it was as if it were white noise.
Rothman’s had a special three-course dinner that evening. It came with an appetizer, entree, and dessert. We ordered a nice bottle of wine in celebration and the waiter poured it out three ways. The wine was delicious and as the courses came out, we drank more and more.
The Wine Incident
My son put his wine glass down. It had less than half a glass in it. Suddenly, the wind swooped it up and it came crashing into me. Of course, I was wearing a new blouse. I was covered in red wine. It was all over my face and my body. I quickly hurried to the bathroom. Feeling like Carrie from the 1976 scare flick, I put on my mask and ran inside, noticing that almost every table was taken inside. Surprised by the crowds, I went into the bathroom took off my blouse, and doused it in water. After zippering up my jacket (now that’s all I was wearing), I cleaned up my face and walked back to the table.
The thing about this incident was that the wind was so powerful that it picked up the glass of wine, but it didn’t grab anything else on the table. When I told my brother what happened, he said, “maybe a ghost picked it up because it was mad at you.” I laughed.
“Okay, Ed, it was a ghost,” I said and smiled.