When I worked in Orlando, I tended to fall into patterns where I did the same thing for lunch everyday. One such pattern involved electronic darts.
There was a dive bar near the office that had electronic dart games. My friend Eric and I would head over there for lunch several times a week, order the same food, and spend the time playing cricket and listening to the same songs on the jukebox. (Oh, George Thorogood, where are you when we need you?)
It got to the point where we’d wave hello to the waitress (same one every day) and go right to the darts, and she’d bring our orders without having to ask.
So one weekend I bring my wife to this bar for lunch, and the same waitress is on duty. She says hi, and asks me if I want the same lunch. Mary raises an eyebrow.
In a totally unrelated development, Mary gives me an electronic dartboard for Christmas.
So now the lunchtime ritual is changed. Eric and I swing by Wendy’s and pick up lunch, then head over to my garage to play darts. Sometimes it’s just us two, and once in a while my daughter Diane joins us.
Diane is around ten at this point, and endures the occasional good-natured ribbing from Eric. This one time we’re playing, and it’s Diane’s turn, and she throws a decent throw. Eric jokingly tells her, “You throw like a girl.”
Diane turns, gives him a dirty look, and fires the next dart.
Which. hits. the. bullseye.
Mike drop.
It’s nice being able to go home for lunch.