Paying my way (or not).
I should really stop going out. Disaster seems to follow me wherever I go.
I am writing this with my face still burning with embarrassment after what has just happened.
Allow me to explain.
A little background . . .
Husb has been very busy this week, in early/back late – you know the drill. The ‘other woman’ is the acquisition he has been working on.
This state of affairs has meant that I have been doing the bed/bath routine for both of the Bears on my own all week.
Today is Friday and I got a text from husb to say he’s going out for a ‘work’ dinner and won’t be back until late. Once again bed and bath is down to me.
As I was a bit fed up I thought I would take the Bear and Flo-Bear out for pizza as a little treat.
To be clear pizza for the Bear, zucchini salad for me and mummy’s milk for Flo-Bear.
All was going well, the Bear was surprisingly and unusually well behaved doing his colouring as we waited for our pizza.
It was a bit boiling as they had seated us next to the roaring fire but I figured we wouldn’t be there all that long.
Bit strange though to put a pram and small child in that seat but hey ho.
Pizza eaten, zucchini enjoyed and milk guzzled I asked for the check as I attempted to deposit baby back in scorching hot pram while newly energetic Bear ran rings around my feet with his lorry dangerously close to the fire. (Did I mention the stupid idea of sticking us next to the fire!)
The check came and I reached for my purse, opened it, only to be met with an empty space where my cash card once nestled and a couple of cobwebs and a crumpled receipt in the notes bit.
Hmmm – frantically I searched my wallet, pram and pockets for some money, any money while the Bear got louder and more impatient, drawing more attention to us.
As I searched I grew sweaty, in part due to the inferno fire next to me and also down to the mix of panic and shame surging from my toes right up to the roots of my badly dyed hair.
I continued to search even though I knew it was futile as I remembered exactly where my money was.
I’d withdrawn it earlier you see and shoved it in my gym bag with my card to sort out later. In my mind’s eye I could see the money nestled happily next to my gym membership card.
The server was coming over no doubt expecting to be paid for the food he’d just provided us (presumptuous).
I had no choice I had to style it out.
I have no money, I have no bank card, in short I have no way of paying you. Mind if I dine for free tonight?
I tried to explain my predicament in a flurry of stuttery words while the Bear ran rings round us (he was actually running in rings around us both shouting something about Fireman Sam putting the fire out) and Flo-bear began to cry.
Two children drawing more attention in a relatively quiet restaurant as you try to explain to the sceptical server that you don’t have the means to pay for the meal you’ve just eaten! – Just what I need.
I was ushered to the bar where I was introduced to surly looking boss man who asked me to explain again why I couldn’t pay my bill – all the while the other diners looking on with a mixture of pity and disdain.
I tried to offer the Bear as collateral to prove that I was good for the money said they could keep him for the night until I came back to pay.
In the end I gave him the dregs of what I had in my wallet as a gesture, gave him my contact details and promised I would come back tomorrow to pay.
We left, drawing even more attention to ourselves as I banged into the door with my pram and clattered down the stairs in my haste to get out.
If I didn’t have to go back to clear my debt tomorrow I wouldn’t step back in there ever again.