Anecdote

I'm also taking a Spanish class. How I'm going to manage juggling Monday Night Football, guitar class on Tuesday nights, Spanish class on Wednesday nights, and Survivor on Thursday nights is somewhat beyond my comprehension. Plus street hockey season has started full swing. I fall into bed each night and just off to sleep I go. Each morning I try to wake up at 5 to catch up on grading tests and such that I'm way behind in, but I just can't do it.

But anyway, I'm taking the Spanish class with Mark. He essentially forced me to do it, signing up and telling me that it would be really mean of me to not take it too since he was going out of his way to come all the way down to Menlo Park for a Spanish class. It's been ok so far. Just like a high school course - very much by the book, chapter by chapter. Most of the folks in there are in their 40s and up. A lot of interesting people.

After yesterday's class, we went to The Acorn for dinner (porque tenemos hambre después de aprendiendo). It's a mediterranean themed restaurant. But there was one amusing anecdote that I wrote down and felt should be preserved ad infinitum in this blog.

I ordered an apple crisp with vanilla ice cream for dessert. Our waiter says it's big, so we'll probably have to share. Mark, always cognizant of nuts, asked if it had any because he is deathly allergic. The waiter told him no, but he would double check. As he starts to leave, he says, "I guess you'll never have baklava then." Mark replied that no, he wouldn't ever be able to experience that pleasure. So the waiter says, "I feel sorry for you. It's so good." And Mark replied, "I feel sorry for me, too, but for many other reasons." And our waiter, without missing a beat, said, "Exactly."

Exactly.