The Tray

Weight’s never been a problem for me. I weigh pretty much what I did in college (true) though gravity for whatever reason has caused a downward “shifting” of my body mass. If I gain a few pounds after a big dinner, the next day I will have one less cookie and – voila! – I’m back to my usual weight.

When we go out to a restaurant, Donna and I will often share a salad and a dessert. Lately though Donna has suggested that we forego dessert. I’m okay with that since I can usually rummage up something in the pantry when we get home. There is only one – giant – impediment to a pre-dinner pledge to have “no dessert.” That obstacle is – The Tray. . . .

Last night, Donna and I went out for dinner – to a new place in downtown Wilmette. Before going, we did the “pinky swear” thing that we would have no dessert. Good enough. Donna ordered the linguini with clams and I had shrimp risotto. And we shared a beet salad before the main course.

I had just wiped my mouth for the 142d time, set the napkin on the table and was about to ask the server for the bill. When it happened. . . . The server burst out of the double doors to the kitchen with a large, copiously-filled tray. Full of desserts. Our eyes were transfixed. I began to perspire. Donna shook her head “no no!” And the server plopped the tray down on our table – and with a big smile said “may I offer you some dessert?” And she rattled off detail on the ten plates cozied together on the tray. I did not try to stop her – or hold my palm in the air saying “no dessert!” Instead, after she finished, I shrugged. “We’ll have the chocolate covered cannoli please. Two forks.”