Last night was a big test. I passed, but there were a few anxious moments.
I took Angela to dinner at a fairly new, popular restaurant in Lafayette Square. Eleven Eleven Mississippi is modeled off of Northern California’s wine country bistros. It’s menu is excellent. It’s wine selection perfect. It’s prices reasonable.
This was the first time I’ve been “out” since quitting. My first smoke pangs occured just as we finished dinner. Next would be coffee and dessert, and a cigarette wanted to be smoked. Fortunately, I didn’t have to consciously fight the urge. My wife is a beautiful woman with a smile that erases whatever was in a man’s head before he saw it.
She smiled. Her ocean-blue eyes glittered in the waning sunlight of hot August day, and my smoking urge dissipated as mysteriously and thoughtlessly as the steam rising from the open kitchen beyond my left shoulder.
After dinner, we went to what we thought was the Venice Cafe. A place called The Shanti. Not sure if it was the Venice under a new name or not, but it wasn’t I remember the Venice Cafe. Here, we sat outside on the patio. She smoked. I drank–beer and her.
I am a lucky man.